Days of Our Lives
by Ris Fallon
Summary: A series of loosely-connected one shots tracking the progress of realization and execution. Hikari and Takeru have known each other for a long time, but they're only just beginning to see each other.
1. Watching The Clouds Go By

**Author's notes:** This is a collaboration of unrelated stories about the relationships between Hikari and Takeru. However, since the two are frequently surrounded by friends or other Chosen, I decided not to exclude the people that are a part of their daily lives. I think it makes it cuter, seeing the little moments that occur when other people are around in comparison to when they're all alone. Things are different.

I'm not sure I really like the ending to this, the idea was better than what came out in my opinion. But hey, my avid readers, why don't you tell me yours? And give me an idea for the next drabble, I like prompts.

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**Watching The Clouds Go By**

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Six teenage children lay on their backs, surrounded as far as their eyes could see by gently rolling hills of pinks, purples, and greens. Occasionally, a small tree had sprouted up, but they were few and far between and did little to disturb the scenery. The sky was bright robin's egg blue, spotted with fluffy white clouds that were lazily drifting across the digital sky.

"It's a bunny," came Miyako's voice from beside Iori. Ken was on her other side, though over a yard away. Then came Daisuke and Hikari. Takeru completed the oddly spaced circle. Their respective digital partners were playing together a small way away, their laughter carrying to the Chosen Children on the wind.

""How the heck do you get a stupid rabbit," Daisuke demanded, propping himself up on his elbow in order to get a better look at her. Someone groaned. It had been two years since they had traveled to the digital world to fight, since their home away from home had been saved by the combined efforts of Oikawa and the world's children. But just because time had passed, didn't mean things had changed.

"Well then, what do _you_ think it is, Gogglehead," Miyako snapped, her old temper flaring. Takeru turned his head to grin at Hikari, who had sighed loudly.

"I _thought_ it was getting a bit quiet," he said just quietly enough for only her to hear. Daisuke, on her other side, was bickering too loudly with Miyako to notice the exchange. Hikari giggled, although a little reluctantly. So much for that relaxing afternoon in the digital world.

"It's a greymon, obviously," Daisuke retorted, rolling his eyes as though this were obvious. Takeru laughed outright, though Hikari merely bit her lip and sat up. The others quickly followed suit, watching the debate like a tennis match with vague interest. Back and forth and back and forth went the volley of comments between Miyako and Daisuke. They'd been getting kind of bored with the whole 'staring at the sky for an hour' idea anyways.

"A greymon." Miyako clearly wasn't convinced. She was sitting, cross-legged and facing the dark-haired boy with her eyebrows raised and her expression skeptical. Iori was watching her warily, as though afraid she'd suddenly get bored of this argument and just chuck something at Daisuke. Ken seemed to be thinking the same thing, but it was clear from the confused expression on his face that he didn't know how to rectify the situation either. Restrain the best friend, or the girlfriend? Either way, he'd catch crap for it and they all knew it. Hence why no one else had interfered yet either. Hikari was watching silently, frowning as her eyes flickered from one friend to the other. This was so usual for them, she didn't think it was worth interfering. They'd just be resentful and bicker even more later. Taichi always told her to let them get it out of their systems and only get involved if it gets violent. But that proved to be a lot easier said than done, in her opinion.

A tap on her shoulder made her jump. Takeru, on hands and knees, had silently crawled over to where she sat while she wasn't paying attention. He smiled at her before jerking his head in the direction of where the digimon were playing. Her eyes followed his nod, confused, and then returned to his face. She cocked her head slightly to one side, questioning. She'd never been good at guessing games, which he knew only too well. He couldn't hold back a snicker before sighing, half-grinning at her. Which, by the way, completely baffled her considering she didn't really think the situation was smirk-worthy. Miyako had just shouted something about Daisuke being an unobservant squirrel with the brain of a tennis ball. Uh-oh.

"I asked Tentomon to guard the food," he confessed quietly. She allowed herself a small smile. He was offering her an escape from the banter, which was increasing in volume and decreasing in maturity by the second. He looked very proud of himself too, eyes gleaming with his little secret.

"_I am not an idiot! Just because you're blind, you four-eyed..."_

"_Excuuuuse me?!_"

"I am getting hungry," Hikari said quietly, and Takeru chuckled as he helped her climb to her feet. And then they proceeded to wander towards their digital companions, abandoning the fight in favor for some quieter left chaperoning the argument to Ken and Iori, who could more-or-less hold Daisuke and Miyako back if things got...well, physical. She glanced quickly over her shoulder, her expression skeptical, before facing forward again. "Are you sure they'll be okay?"

"Positive," Takeru replied confidently. They spoke in normal volumes now that they weren't in danger of the yelling being redirected towards them. They lapsed into a comfortable silence, walking side by side with little space between them. Hikari really wasn't much of a talker, despite her willingness to talk if approached with a conversation. And Takeru never pressed that unless he really had something to say. However, he did let out a shout and wave when the digimon were in sight. Hikari giggled and did the same, laughing as Tailmon ran up to her and leaped into her waiting arms. Patamon flew to Takeru, who caught the orange-and-tan digimon with a grin and nuzzled his face into his side.

"So where's that food," Hikari asked, feeling suddenly ravenous. Food had been the farthest thing from her mind while the group had been in easy silence, watching the digital sky in peace. But now, she felt as if she'd never eaten in all her life and would implode if she didn't get substance soon. She couldn't help but smile. It was so hard to be really serious around their digimon friends, especially now that they weren't battle companions. They were just friends. Very rambunctious, energetic, and seemingly care-free friends. Takeru looked at Tentomon expectantly, who responded with an affronted tone. Hikari wondered if the question offended him, as though it implied he had not done as he had promised Takeru.

"It's right where you left it. I didn't let them so much as lay a single finger on the basket," he said, sounding ruffled. Hikari bit her lip to stop herself from giggling, though Tailmon mumbled something about being a goodie two shoes (she suspected that was for Tentomon.). Hikari merely grinned to herself, failing miserably at hiding it from Tailmon. She had a feeling she knew who "they" were, and that Tailmon had just possibly been their ring leader. It wouldn't be the first time, anyway.

"Thanks Tentomon," Takeru said cheerfully, as though he was completely unaware of the offense the digimon had taken. Sometimes it was easier than trying to rectify every little offense they took. Especially Tentomon, who's pride was easily threatened. Grinning broadly in a way that reminded her of a giddy school boy, Takeru began leading the way to where he had stashed his sweets and drinks. That was Takeru, Hikari supposed. She, too, thanked Koushiro's partner before following after and peering over Takeru's shoulder curiously at the basket's contents.

"When did you find time to make this," she asked, eyebrows raised in surprise. He had had a paper to write the previous evening, she remembered, because she'd been texting him for a good hour before he had insisted he needed to concentrate if he wanted to sleep at all that night. But here she saw sushi rolls, California rolls (for Hawkmon, who'd developed a strange fondness for the things), ohagi and rice balls. She stared at him in wonder, but he only laughed and handed her a rice ball. She took it without complaint, but stared at the thing cupped in her hands.

"I didn't poison it," he teased her, sitting himself down next to the basket. She did the same, so the wicker basket was between the two. Fearing she had offended him, she nibbled on the top. She had to admit, it was very good. She felt bad for being skeptical about eating it. Still, her next bite was another small one as though she felt like the taste might change if she ate too much at once. He laughed at her bemused expression, eating his own in large bites.

"You didn't have a paper," she said suddenly, looking up at him. It wasn't a question, but a simple statement of fact. She used the same tone one would use to discuss the weather. The corners of his mouth twitched upward, but he kept eating and Hikari frowned. She wasn't going to get an answer, she realized. And she didn't try to press for one, knowing it wouldn't happen. But that didn't mean she didn't bother pretending she wasn't a little put off as she finished her rice ball in silence, grabbing a can of cola from the basket to wash it down with.

"Are you angry," he asked after a few minutes, looking at the brunette with a small frown. Hikari shook her head, but she was frowning too. A thoughtful frown that Takeru didn't like. He grabbed the basket handle, as though to move it, but seemed to reconsider and extracted another rice ball instead. Hikari pretended not to notice.

"I didn't call you because I was worried I'd disturb you," she said slowly before sinking her teeth into a California roll. She drew out the process, taking much more time to bite and chew and swallow than normally would have been necessary for such a small food. And when she had swallowed, she waited another long moment before speaking again. "I wanted to wish you luck on your paper, but I wished for it before bed instead." Her voice was quiet, even for she who was always soft spoken when speaking her thoughts.

"I'm sorry," Takeru murmured, and he leaned over the basket to place a hand on her shoulder. Hikari blinked and raised her head so she was looking into his eyes. Bright, intelligent blue eyes. She blinked again. She'd never noticed there was a hint of silver around their edges before, and wondered why she noticed it now. "I didn't think anything of it. I just wanted this to be a surprise," he explained. His voice was pleading softly with her, asking her forgiveness without directly expressing the wish. Hikari remained silent. "I didn't think anyone would question it. We are in junior high, papers are normal... I'm really sorry, Hikari-chan."

She shook herself out of her reverie, which she blamed on the sudden discovery of silver mixed with blue, and smiled softly. She shook her head quickly, and pulled out another cola to toss to him. He caught it, looking baffled. And then he understood. She meant there had been no harm done, all was forgiven. "Don't worry about it," she said with an indifferent shrug. The initial shock of her understanding had worn off, and she now accepted it as no big deal. Well, sort of. She was touched, and couldn't help but smile. Takeru wasn't exactly a cook, though he had learned a thing or two from Yamato. It must have taken him a lot of time to put this meal together for all of them. "I think it's sweet."

Popping his soda open with a snap of the top, Takeru grinned. Hikari couldn't help herself but let a giggle escape. It sounded girlish and a little strange coming from her, but Takeru's grin only widened at the sound of it. He looked like such an excited little kid when he smiled like that. Like her laughing had brightened his day unlike anything else... Living in the moment. She wondered how he could do that. She was forever looking back, with her 20/20 hindsight, and wondering "what if". And then Takeru came along, grinning and laughing about some stray dog that he'd seen on the way to school, and she wondered why she bothered.

The rest of their little picnic wasn't very eventful. The best friends traded stories about school, basketball practice, dance team, journalism, photography.... The conversation just flowed, like it was rehearsed. Hikari loved how natural it was, talking with Takeru. It was like talking to her brother, or Miyako. Few people could keep her talking for so long without her longing for a way to escape for a couple minutes or divert their attention elsewhere. She longed for it to last forever, but that would be unrealistic. Hikari was nothing if not realistic, however depressing it could be. So she clung to the last few moments of her one-on-one time with Takeru for as long as she could, taking mental snap shots so the memory would stay with her.

They could no longer hear the sounds of Miyako and Daisuke's bantering, which to them signaled that it was time to rejoin their know, make sure no blood was drawn, the usual. Actually, the silence disturbed her, and she made a point to bring it up. "That's...Ha, very true," Takeru agreed with a weak laugh, running his hand through his messy blond hair. They started moving faster after that. As the Digimon had gotten a bit bored and returned to their games shortly after their arrival, Takeru collected their trash and tipped it into the basket before flipping the lid shut. A few hungry hopefuls peered over at them, pausing once again in the midst of their game, and Hikari laughed.

"Go ahead. We can just blame you if the others are hungry." They took Hikari's open invitation with gusto, tackling the basket and forcing the lid open before the baby digimon dived inside to explore its contents. She and Takeru exchanged glances before bursting out in laughter.

"Daisuke will be mad that we wandered off together," Takeru felt the need to point out as they began making their way back to the group. Hikari shrugged and nodded. She wasn't sure if the thought amused her, or annoyed her. She didn't like how Daisuke always picked fights with Takeru, despite the fact that he had openly admitted Takeru was one of his best friends. She sighed. Maybe it was a guy thing. She was beginning to give up hoping to understand them, after Taichi's several failed attempts to get her to see the world through their eyes. It was like thinking like a dog...You know, that could talk and eat chili fries.

"If he noticed. Those two can argue for a long time," she pointed out. Takeru nodded. That was true, too. He turned his head and fixed her with a long look, a smirk slowly spreading across his face. She blinked, returning the look with suspicion. That look was one she rarely saw on anyone besides Yamato and Taichi, and it never exactly boded well. "What?"

"Let's run."

"What?"

Takeru laughed, grabbing her hand. She blinked again in surprise before she was yanked along. She stumbled before catching her balance, a laugh escaping her lips as she ran to keep up and to keep from falling again. "Let's go!"

"I'm going, I'm going," she laughed, only a few steps behind him. They didn't slow to a walk till they were maybe five or so yards from their friends. The old argument was still going, but with less enthusiasm than when they left. Iori rolled his eyes when he caught their eyes, and sighed. Ken had returned his focus to the clouds above.

" Where'd you two disappear to," Miyako demanded when she spotted them, cutting off whatever Daisuke had been about to say. He twisted around, cocking his head at Takeru and Hikari.

"We just went to check on the digimon," Takeru shrugged, as though that were obvious. Hikari dimly noted he didn't mention the food. He probably suspected there would be none left for the others by the time their digimon were satisfied, and it was a theory she was prepared to agree with.

"Oh really," Daisuke asked skeptically, raising his eyebrows doubtfully. Hikari nodded silently, confused. What was that look about? But then she realized where all four sets of eyes were looking, and followed their gaze herself. Her eyes widened slightly in surprise as understanding replaced confusion. Now she understood the smirk on Miyako's face, the knowing smiles on Ken's and Iori's, and the suspicious hurt on Daisuke's.

Takeru's fingers were still entwined with hers.


	2. Private Practice: Invite Only

**Author's note:** I've decided this is gonna be what I do when I'm in the middle of a rut with everything else, and have randomly cute ideas I can't figure out what to do with. They might resurface in other fics if they inspire something. I don't know yet. But if there's any scene you'd like written out (Takari centric please), then just add it as a note in your review. And remember, silent watchers don't inspire me. So don't get pissy with me if you click that "watch" button and nothing comes of it. On a side note, I feel like I'm never on anymore. It makes me all sad and stuff. This is dedicated to Takarifan101, whom I heard is leaving the world of writing fanfiction. It was after reading their final story that I decided to come back to this project I had started a while ago and abandoned, and abandoned again.... FF will miss you!

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**Private Practice: Invite Only**

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"C'mon Hikari," Takeru prompted, nudging her a step closer to the basketball hoop. They were in the school gym, even though it was already past four. And yes, Hikari had teasingly said that it was insane that they were still there. She didn't mean it though, or rather, if she did then she knew not to admit she was serious. She was used to school sports because of Taichi and his soccer team. With Takeru though, it was the basketball team. The team, of course, had already left. About ten minutes ago, maybe, but they'd still booked the second the whistle sounded. Daisuke had asked if they were coming along, leaving with a long face when Takeru shook his head and Hikari followed his lead. Of course, she thought he was just going to be an over achiever and practice some more on his own while she watched from the bleachers.

"I told you," she insisted in a tone that came as close to whining as Hikari ever did, trying to shove the ball back into the hands of her best friend, "I'm more of a soccer girl. You know, kick stuff. I can't throw." His eyebrows went up disbelievingly when she uttered the last sentence, and she sighed. He wouldn't let her leave the smelly gym until she threw the stupid ball, would he? Honestly, he was as stubborn as Yamato and Taichi combined, with just enough charm to actually get away with it without being kicked like Taichi's soccer ball. Not that Hikari could ever kick Takeru. Glare at him occasionally, but that was it. He was her best friend, after all. A treasured childhood friend.

"C'mon. Just try? No one's around to see," he added, as if that little added bit would convince her to throw the darn ball already. It didn't. All it seemed to do was make her paranoid that someone might actually be there, and she looked over her shoulder to see if what he said was true. He released an exasperated sigh, and she smiled with shy embarrassment.

"Don't laugh," she warned him. He grinned, but he raised his hands the way people do in those really lame sci-fi alien movies. We come in peace. Yea, right. Because the human race is _so_ welcoming and inviting to things different from them, nevermind the fact that aliens that have managed to master interspace hyper speed travel couldn't care less if some pathetic pale things on two legs came in peace or not. It was something that had always kinda irked Hikari when she was watching movies with Taichi. Don't ask her why though. She didn't have much of an answer that didn't result in guys staring at her like she had three heads and purple polka dots for freckles.

"I won't, I won't," he promised, chuckling. "When have I ever?"

Hikari didn't join in his amusement though. She just grumbled something that sounded like "I can probably think of a time or two if you give me a minute." But Takeru didn't seem intent on giving her a minute. Still grinning at something that seemed only amusing to him, he stood behind her and gripped her elbows.

"Just aim, shoot, and follow through," he ordered gently, and he guided her through the motion. Or rather, he moved her arms for her. She seemed reluctant to make any effort on her own behalf, afraid of messing up. Honestly, the girl was such a total perfectionist. It wouldn't be the first time he teasingly told her to consider getting tested for Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. But when a girl was in front of you, with easy elbowing-and-foot-stomping positions, it was best to limit the amount of playful teasing inserted into any given argument. It was something you learned watching Yamato and Mimi hanging out when Mimi was on vacation in Odaiba. Seriously, Yamato thought he was all hot, but Mimi and Sora never failed to remind him that he still had a lot to learn about girls. It didn't help that Taichi was the one he went to with girl troubles, you know?

Hikari bit her lip when the ball fell short of the basket. "I told you," she said in a very matter-of-fact tone. But Takeru knew Hikari better than that; they'd been friends for years. _Best_ friends, even. He could hear the disappointment buried beneath the facade of apathy. He smiled cheerfully and released her arms. Awkward moment, now that the ball was rolling happily towards a corner of the gym. Stupid ball. Just had to go and mess up, didn't it?

"So we'll try again," Takeru announced, as upbeat and perky as ever as he jogged after the basketball. Hikari just groaned, though she thought that she covered it up rather cleverly with a coughing fit. Takeru's smile when he turned again to face her was a little too knowing though.

"Do we have to," she asked. Her question was answered with a wink and Takeru's annoyingly enthusiastic grin as he threw the ball at her. She grabbed it from the air, though she attributed that to reflexes, not talent. Takeru, however, was looking confident that he wasn't totally wasting his time. She hated when he got like that. It made her feel like such a wet rag to burst his bubble. However, sometimes bubbles needed bursting. But Takeru's bubble wasn't an ordinary bubble. It had like, a titanium coat of armor around it or something. In other words, it was an unburstable bubble that she was wasting her time with by prodding it with a bamboo stick.

"C'mon! You can do it!" He flashed a confident grin and she sighed. She didn't try hide the sound in the large, empty gym. And he tsked at her as he stood behind her again, the awkwardness abandoned once he was doing something he was familiar with again: helping a friend, and playing some ball. That was his bubble. There was nothing awkward about that bubble, either, thank you very much. "Don't make me do all the work," he said lightly, his tone only slightly teasing as he positioned her arms for her. "Push with your finger tips, kay? Like... the wall at the rink. I can help you stand, but I can't make you skate."

"We're not skating," Hikari blinked, turning her head to blink at him. And she regretted the action almost immediately as her cheeks grew hot with embarrassment. Her face was literally mere inches from Takeru's. It was a fact he didn't seem to miss either, for his eyes grew wide before darting away, towards the hoop. And when he spoke again, he sounded as flustered as a kid that dropped his index cards during an oral presentation or something.

"Well,...I know, but.... you know... Um, so... let's try again, right?"

"Right..." She sounded a little doubtful, but she didn't fight with him this time as he positioned her arms, and tweaked her elbows into the "proper position". She even cooperated a little and pushed with her fingers like he had told her too, because she really wasn't any good at popping his bubble even if sometimes it needed to be popped. It didn't feel right. Takeru was just one of those people she couldn't yell at or hit, even playfully, or get angry with. Not for very long, anyways. Their spats weren't like Sora and Taichi's. She always forgave him within the half hour, even if he didn't believe it.

"See!" Takeru laughed and let her go as Hikari stared at the net in numb shock. She was pretty sure that the net had just kinda... moved. Swished. But that meant....

"It went in," she said dumbly. Takeru chuckled as he stepped around her, looking quite smug as he got a look at the expression on the brunette's fair face.

"Ready for a little one on one," Takeru challenged, a smirk on his face. Hikari shook her head vigorously.

"We should get going, Keru," she said slowly. But he wasn't to be deterred. Honestly, had he always been this stubborn, or had he just been spending a little too much time with Daisuke lately? She could blame the second one. She didn't remember Takeru actually being stubborn, not that she made much of a conscious effort to dig through her memories. It didn't sound like a very pleasant memory to think about.

"C'mon. One game. It won't take long. I'll go easy on you and everything," Takeru grinned and dribbled the ball lazily, and Hikari raised her eyebrows at the challenge. She'd grown up with Taichi, after all. She might not be as gung-ho about it as her older brother was, but she was a tiny bit competitive as well. Kind of had to be when you were fighting for the bathroom or the last can of soda in the fridge... especially considering soda was a like, once a year treat that they only got when their mom was visiting their grandmother and their dad was feeling generous. And, you know, didn't think their health nut of a mom would find out.

"Alright. Best two out of three," she asked sweetly, cocking her head inquiringly to one side. Takeru shrugged.

"Sounds good."

Hikari smiled sweetly. Okay, so she wasn't great at basketball. Whatever. She could still have a little fun, right? No one was around, Taichi wasn't calling her cell phone freaking out yet. And it was just _Takeru_. There'd be no hard feelings, right? Well, not for long, anyways. It was hard to be resentful towards Takeru, the boy with hair like warm summer sunshine and eyes like the summer sky, flecked with silver like the sky was scattered with whispy white clouds. It was like trying to be in a bad mood while the sun was shining and the birds were singing. It made you feel like a downright ungrateful jerk, you know?

"You're on."

Takeru blinked as she ran at him, knocking the ball from his hands with a mischeivous smile. Well, if nothing else, she had a good position as defense if she ever lost control of her braincells and joined the girls' team.

"Cheap shot," Takeru laughed as he stooped low for the ball again. But she noticed he didn't stand so casually anymore. And his eyes were bright. Jerk was actually enjoying this!

"There aren't any cheap shots if a ref isn't looking," she shot back, sticking her tongue out childishly. It was a favorite line of Taichi, and likewise Daisuke. Takeru knew it too. He rolled his eyes and shook his head, even though he was chuckling.

"We should call Taichi-san, make sure he's okay," Takeru suggested lunging for the basketball before it could merrily bounce its way off the court. "I think you're channeling his energy."

"I am _not_," she protested, though she giggled. "So, one to zero." She held up three fingers before putting one down. "Sure you can do it?"

"For now."

"Ha! Bring it, Yagami," he smirked, and Hikari grinned back. Well, I guess one could say _this_ much for the two of them: they weren't nearly as competitive as their older siblings,...well, you know, most of the time. They'd never resorted to wrestling and boxing matches to settle a score, anyways. They were like mellow versions of Yamato and Taichi, although even the child of Hope and the child of Light had moments where they were just, you know, normal kids trying to show each other up in the privacy of the school gym.

Hikari ran off, cradling the ball to her chest. She let out a loud laugh as Takeru called after her indignantly, sounding very affronted. She could hear her best friend's footsteps hitting the polished wood of the gym floor with each step as he sprinted towards her, and she pushed herself to run faster. The net, it seemed, had been forgotten in the race.

"Catch me if you can!"

"Heyy! That's traveling," Takeru accused, although his laughs mingled with Hikari's as they echoed throughout the empty gymnasium. She kept running. "Seriously! That's like, taking a business trip around the globe. Hikari!" He lunged for her and Hikari released a shrill scream before it faded into a fit of giggles. Takeru was laughing too, though slowly the giggling died as they both realized he hadn't let her go.

Hikari gasped. He was too close. But it was just a hug. An embrace, really. And although her heart was fighting to break free of her chest cavitiy, Hikari didn't try to pull away. She turned her head to see him, and was startled to find their eyes so close. Much, much too close. But neither of them made a move, just staring at each other as Hikari tried to remember how to breathe. Takeru seemed to be struggling with that as well. His breaths were deep, but short, like he'd been running for miles.

"We. Um." What had she been about to say? She couldn't remember. And she felt her cheeks grow hot as his hands moved to hold her hands, and she didn't even notice as he lifted the basketball out of her arms.

"Swish, swish," he whispered, throwing the ball away from them. It landed in the net with professional ease, and his smile was conspiritorial. As this dawned on her, Hikari scowled, but Takeru laughed and took a few careful steps away from her, just on the off chance that her temper might prove to be as dangerous as Taichi's could be. "Time to go?"

"...Yea. Time to go." She sighed and they made their way to their bags in silence, although the sound of blood rushing through their ears was deafening. Hikari placed a hand over her sternum without really thinking about it. And she had to remind herself to breathe big, deep breaths. "You win this time, Takashi," she warned, and Takeru laughed at the dark look on her face. It was so against her nature, it looked wrong on her normally smiling, serene features. And it seemed like it felt uncomfortable there too, because the corners of her mouth kept twitching upwards in a barely restrained smile.

"Sure, sure," Takeru chuckled, and Hikari giggled as Takeru tucked the basketball under his arm, raising an eyebrow at her as though he was daring her to just _try_ and take the ball again. She jokingly made a lunge for it, but instead playfully smacked his arm when he shielded the ball with his body. "Oh, no! Now there won't be a next time," he insisted while Hikari laughed. But then he was laughing with her, and they laughed together the rest of the way home, because that was what spending time with your childhood best friend was all about.


	3. You and Me, and these City Streets

**Author's notes:** I'm having fun with this. Just, you know, by the way. I don't care about the popularity of these drabbles. I think there's way too much dramatic Takari out there, when they don't feel like the kinds of characters that would be fond of so many twists and turns just to reach their first kiss. Theirs is a softer, deeper sort of love, one that doesn't need outlandish schemes and a hundred roses scattered throughout the bedroom to be attractive. So in case you haven't caught that, this collection of drabbles is dedicated to that. Not all of us are into the candlelight romantics. Pizza and a cartoon marathon can be just as memorable. But that's for another chapter, I think.

I just realized that there's almost a time line developing. I just might take this off drabble-status after all. You'll see what I mean in later chapters, even if you don't see it just this moment. It's early, yet.

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**You and Me, and these City Streets**

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"What are we looking for again?" Takeru stretched his arms overhead as he and his best friend since childhood walked down the crowded Tokyo sidewalk. It was a task made difficult, not only by the fact that this was simply Tokyo no matter which form of transportation you chose to get from Point A to B, but also by sidewalk sales, groups of cosplayers gathering and pausing to take snap shots with overly excited tourists (you just had to love Sundays in Japan), and the fact that Hikari kept second guessing the location of a record store Takeru had been to a million and one times. She was underestimating his memory, he decided with a small pout. It wasn't like Yamato, his older brother, didn't drag him in there regularly. Nooo, not at all!

"I want to get The Pillows album. "Another Morning, Another Pillows"," she reminded him for the third time. This was, perhaps, why she was so doubtful, casting him dubious glances whenever he insisted they were going the right direction. But this was different, he maintained stubbornly. A million visits to two reminders. Which ratio won out there? Yea, he thought it was the million, thanks. But he wasn't going to say anything. After all, it wasn't like he was hanging around with Daisuke or Ken. This was Hikari. He was always a tiny bit different around Hikari.

"Right, right." He nodded, and she sighed, twisting her hands anxiously. She glanced over her shoulder with a longing that said she was wondering if this was a good idea. She wanted to turn back, but that was nearly impossible on this side walk. "Come on," he insisted. "Just a little farther." She frowned, a faint quirk of her lip really, but she didn't protest anymore than that. "Is it for Taichi?"

He looked over at her just in time to catch what she thought was a concealed eye roll. She wasn't really losing patience. She was just wondering why all the boys she hung out with were such... well, _boys_. But she smiled a little despite herself. Annoyance did not suit Hikari well at all. It was, indeed, difficult to take her very seriously when she got in a huff. Of course, Takeru tried his very best to take her seriously no matter how much he wanted to laugh at her most sour expressions, and not just because Taichi had been the one to teach her how to kick, and Sora the one to teach her how to swing a racket. Of course, the foreknowledge that she had the ability to do both rather well didn't hurt as a reminder. Forgetting, well..._ that _was what hurt. Well, so he'd been told. Hikari had never raised her hand to do more than gently shove his shoulder.

"Yes," she replied, an amused smile teasing her mouth even as she tried to sound flustered. "His birthday is next weekend. I've been busy all month, and this is the only day I have time to shop."

"Oh yea. Cutting it kinda close, huh," he teased, but his good humor was not returned as her hands fluttered. The anxiety was back as she flipped out her phone to check the time. Honestly, that thing had been practically glued to her hand since he met up with her outside her apartment building, with the promise of "It won't be all day, really!" when he commented on it with mock aggravation. He smiled back sweetly as he plucked the phone out of her hand, tucking it into his pocket as she stared, open mouthed with shock.

"Hey!" A slightly delayed reaction, but a delayed reaction nonetheless. The word came out as a defiant squeak as she tried to reach for it, but it was safely hiding in the pocket away from her, and Hikari was hesitant about breaking socially accepted physical barriers. Takeru? Eh, he respected them, but there was a need sometimes, for breaking the rules. Like now. Normally, the grounds of stealing one's phone would not be cool. But he considered this to be a form of therapy. It'd do her some good.

"Hey," he replied with an easy grin. Hikari didn't find his response very funny. Truthfully, she looked near to tears of panic as she held her hand out for her phone. Oh, Hikari, if it was that easy to win, Takeru would've won so many more arguments over toys as a little boy with Yamato. Or even as Daisuke's classmate, as he constantly was taking Takeru's calculator, pencils, notebooks, _lunch_...

"Give it back," she demanded, trying to keep her voice firm and even. Geez. He stared at her with something very remarkably close to pity and shook his head. She was like a caffeine addict with their coffee pot taken away. He gave her a low-five instead. "Takeru!"

"We're here," he said cheerfully, ignoring the fact that she was now outright sulking as he steered her into the store that she had been so sure _wouldn't_ be found this way. Honestly, she could be as stubborn as Taichi sometimes, impossible to convince that they weren't right until the evidence was right before their eyes. And even then, she looked like she was ready to doubt his words. After all, he had stolen her phone right from her hand! Why should she trust him?

She let Takeru steer her into the dimly lit record store. Not like, "ohemgee when the heck are you going to replace the stupid light bulb" dim, but just... dim. It was a very relaxing atmosphere, with very fashionable lamps casting pools of yellow light over tables. There were two shelves of books, mostly on music's most famous, or even the Underground of the music world, both of which were protected by very comfortable-looking single seaters beneath the lamps. And sometimes, a customer would bring a record over to the lamps to read it better. Especially CDs, which didn't have as easily-spotted labels as their record ancestors. The Pillows album Taichi hadn't shut up about for, oh, however long he'd figured out that the band existed, was in that section. Only a few bands bothered producing records, though it was slowly growing in popularity. Hikari would have bought them if she had a record player at home, but their parents had sold it during the move from Highton View Terrace when she was little.

"What's the name again," he asked jokingly, and Hikari glared at him. He had her phone. Her good mood was waning drastically without it, and he chuckled and held up his hands in front of him. "I'm kidding, I'm kidding!" Geez. Maybe he'd take her to the sweets shop later. But she wasn't getting her phone back until the train ride home.

"You'd better be kidding," she muttered, and Takeru only chuckled and nudged her arm playfully.

"C'mon, it'll be over by here," he said, pointing to a set of shelves stacked with CDs closer to the register. They headed towards it in relative silence, except Hikari would occasionally sigh and glance longingly at the pocket where she knew her phone was. She was so obsessive about checking the time, making sure she didn't miss a call, checking her calender, making sure there was no dirt or scratch marks on the screen... It was insane. Takeru personally suspected that she wanted any excuse to have her pretty, sleek hot pink phone in her hands, but he kept that to himself.

They were quiet, for a while anyway. Hikari was almost always a rather quiet companion; she was an observer unless the occasion called for action. And right now, she knew that action would only keep her phone hostage longer. It made her a little more tense than usual, but Takeru was sure she'd loosen up. I mean, eventually. She was never very good at staying mad at him for long. She'd either beg for her phone back, or steal his bucket hat, and they'd get a good laugh, and call it a day.

But for once, Hikari broke the silence. "I found it," she called out happily, clutching a CD to her chest. She was handing it over to the guy behind the counter (which was really kinda more like a wooden computer desk littered with more CDs, some records, candy, and magazines) by the time Takeru had wound his way through the rest of the shelves and odd tables at the end of the rows, like a really cramped book store that smelled faintly of car fresheners.

"That the one Taichi was talking about?"

"Mhm. Good thing, I don't have a back up plan." She smiled a sheepish half grin. "Soccer gear and detective movies can only keep going on for so many years." Takeru couldn't help but laugh.

"Maybe for you, but I'll stick to the classics. How many soccer balls has he lost?"

"...I lost count after seven," Hikari admitted with a small frown.

"Headbands?"

"More than soccer balls."

"And a new movie comes out every month; never gets old."

Hikari giggled, and Takeru grinned triumphantly. He knew she couldn't stay annoyed for very long. She wasn't good at it, even with Daisuke when his flirting and jealous tendencies got to be a little much to handle. Their short time in the record store was probably the longest that Hikari had been frosty with him at all, unless you counted their little skirmish over whether or not Andromon was approachable, and that had not only been _months_ ago now, but was a rare occurrence in itself. Hikari had never given much consideration to her own safety. And when she did, it was only because Taichi or Takeru himself, not to mention all the other Chosen, would worry if she got hurt.

"So, Takeru?" She sounded kind of hesitant. You know, not like, _nervous_, but anxious. He had to suppress a grin; he had a feeling he knew what she wanted, and she wasn't getting it quite yet.

"Yeah?"

"When do you plan on giving me my phone back," she asked with a slight frown. It was a thoughtful look, like she was trying to read his answer in his expression. Takeru only smiled, and her expression fell a little. She knew the answer. He wasn't exactly making an effort to hide it from her.

"Not yet," he replied cheerfully, patting his pocket while she pouted. She looked kind of cute like that... not that he liked her upset or anything. Not that he should be thinking of his best friend since he was eight as _cute_. It was just... wrong? Didn't feel wrong. But it was. He knew it was. Totally was. This was Hikari-chan, and not to mention he'd have to learn to live without sleep if Daisuke found out he even thought about thinking about thinking Hikari as cute.

But she really was. Not gonna lie there. Her cheeks were flushed, a little from the sun and a little with frustration. Her hair fell into her eyes, and her clip was falling loose but she didn't make any effort to fix it. She was frowning at him with a sort of reproachful look, the kind that a mother gives a little kid. But he was like the obnoxious ten year old who was way too used to that look to feel bad anymore. Well, most of the time. Right now, he thought a little time away from her phone would do Hikari some good. This was more than just annoying her for the sake of annoying her: this was an _intervention_.

"When, then," she demanded. And seriously, Takeru almost expected her to stamp her foot. She was trying to keep the impatience from her voice, as if it was just a casual inquiry, annoying but tolerable. But her hands were clenched into fists at her side. She was as annoyed at Takeru as she seemed physically capable of getting. And he really, really shouldn't have to fight back the desire to laugh.

"After we get some coffee." She stopped walking, and Takeru turned to face her. "What, you don't want to go to a cafe with me? Like you said, you've been busy all month! I've barely seen you out of school." So maybe there was another reason he had taken the phone. he was being a little bit selfish, but you know, she made him close his laptop when she came over to hang out. This seemed pretty reasonable, to Takeru. To Hikari? Apparently not so much.

"I-- Well, no, I didn't say that," she stammered, her cheeks turning a deeper shade of red. She was flustered, and a little embarrassed, and all Takeru could do was raise an eyebrow, because it was that or chuckle, and chuckling would make her annoyed with him again. And while it was fun testing the limits, he didn't like it when Hikari was _really_ mad. It didn't suit her at all.

"So, what's the problem then?"

"You stole my phone." She crossed her arms over her chest as she spoke, but it really didn't have the intimidating effect that Takeru suspected she was going for. It just, didn't work from her. She knew it, too. Her expression softened as they started walking again. "Takeru... what if I get a call?"

"Voice mail. It's a wonderful invention, you know," Takeru winked. Hikari playfully slapped his arm.

"But I'm expecting calls about job applications... Come on, Takeru," she pleaded, tugging at his sleeve. Takeru frowned, and then sighed. He couldn't fight with that; he was waiting on a few of those himself.

"Hanging out used to be a lot easier," he mumbled, fishing her phone out of his pocket and handing it over. But when she put her hand on it to take it, he tightened his grip. "Only take it out if it rings. Deal?"

"Deal," she promised, and he let go, and she tucked it into her pocket. "It didn't ring when you had it?"

"Not a chirp," he assured her. It seemed to have the opposite effect though: her face fell. No call, meant no job, and they all needed the money to pay for Uni. Granted, that was still a few years away, but Uni got expensive, especially when you had an older sibling whose time in Uni would be overlapping yours.

"Hanging out did used to be easier," Hikari agreed with a sad sigh. "But you have basketball practice."

"And the school paper, yeah. And you're never free weekend mornings."

"I go to Taichi's games. I've never missed one," Hikari reminded him. Takeru nodded.

"And Yamato's concerts."

"Those are on school nights a lot, it's really hard--"

"I know, I have to beg mom to let me go. Next week there's one on Saturday. At night. You can make that, can't you?"

Hikari thought for a moment, the break in the conversation coinciding perfectly with the traffic light. They practically sprinted across the street before the traffic could overwhelm them. Hikari spoke again when they were safely across, although they were breathing a little more heavily.

"I think I can, yes," she nodded.

"Do you want to go together," Takeru asked her.

"Ye--" She paused, mouth still open, when it seemed to dawn on her what 'together' really meant. She blushed again, and her voice got a little softer, but she didn't look _unsure_. Just shy. Takeru's heart thudded against his chest cavity. Daisuke was going to kill him, or at least hit him hard in the head with a soccerball. Really hard. Like, concussion-inducing hard. But he could handle that; Daisuke had gone off at him for smaller infractions of the 'friend code'. Invented infractions of his twisted imagination, mind, but infractions nonetheless. "Yes," she said quietly. She was smiling. "I want to."

Takeru smiled back at her. He found it rather difficult not to, to be completely honest. On the surface, there didn't seem to be different about these plans they were making then countless other discussions they had had over the years. But it felt different, and he thought that she could feel it too. That change, that subtle change neither of them had realized until after the word 'together' had left his lips. But he didn't want to take it back.

"C'mon," he said, touching his hand to her wrist briefly to get her attention again. He needn't have bothered. He had never lost it to begin with. "The cafe is around the corner here. It's new, I found it with Yamato last week. Huge photogallery inside. The owner is a professional photographer."

"Ooh, really?" A hand went to Hikari's own camera, still hanging around her neck. It was a slimmer, not to mention more expensive model than the one that had hung there during her last years in Odaiba Elementary. As she had gotten more serious about her photography, she had saved up her allowance and earnings from petty jobs around the apartments for a better camera. There was just something about photographs that felt magnetic, seeing the world through the photographer's eyes, glimpsing something you yourself had never seen before. And Takeru knew how she thought, how she felt.

"Yeah. They have a book corner too. It's all books written by local up-and-coming writers." He sounded excited, and Hikari knew why. He seemed to slowly be following in his mother's footsteps, and tackling a career of writing instead of sports like many of their classmates expected of him. He was good at sports, there was no question. But maybe he wanted something that wasn't quite so natural, something he had to work at. It was an admirable thing. Foolish, in some eyes, but admirable. Yamato hadn't gone for the easy track either, though he was good at school. Maybe it was like, some... family thing. But a good one.

"That's really good. Are you going to try get yours here when it's done," she asked. And he nodded enthusiastically, the familiar determined gleam in his eye.

"And you could ask about your photographs, if you go professional. Or want to. Then we'd get our head start together," Takeru said. And although Hikari only replied with a "maybe", she ducked her head and bit her lip. She was still smiling.


	4. I Never Liked the Rain

**Author's note:** I'm in a mood. And when I'm in a mood, I either write really depressing or really fluffy stuff. I think this is going to be more on the fluffy side, because I've read a lot of really sad Takari fics (shit, I'm _writing_ a really sad Takari fic) and I need to boost my spirits a little. This reminds me too much of my best friend, so I'm sorry if it gets overly sentimental. But that's the definition of fluff, right? So without further ado, I'll allow the fluff to commence.

**P.S.:** I lied. It can't commence yet. I think Hikari's a little out of character, so sorry. I told you this reminded me of my best friend, Takeru anyway, and... yeah. But hopefully it shall content my Takari loving fluff-fans (for fluff is so hard to be a fan of in today's scary-shipping-war world).

**P.P.S.:** Can you tell that I was freezing when I wrote this? I hate that not-quite-autumn, not-quite winter time of the year. I can't feel my hands!

* * *

**I Never Liked the Rain**

* * *

It had been a beautiful morning, Hikari reflected with a long, mournful sigh. The sun had been high and beautiful, and it had streamed through the classroom windows and created pools of light and contrasted shadows that danced across the room as the day progressed. But around lunch time, it began to get cold and breezy, and by the time dance team had been scheduled to meet in the gymnasium across the Junior High campus, dark storm clouds were rolling in. Hikari shivered; she only had a dark brown sweater to wear today. She prayed the rain would hold off for a few more hours, just so that she could practice, run to the yearbook room and finish what she had left off yesterday, and get home.

Judging by the sound of rain hitting the roof like footfalls of a panicked crowd, she had had no such luck. The yearbook room wasn't far, once she got to the main school building. But it was getting to that building that was causing her to hesitate whenever she went to take that first chilled footstep outside. Puddles were already forming on the walkway, and it looked much too dark for only three o'clock. She considered skipping yearbook altogether and just using her lunch to finish her work tomorrow, but that didn't really solve her dilemma. If it wasn't sprinting to the yearbook room, it was sprinting to the subway station. And _that_ was three blocks away—not exactly favorable in this weather.

"Yagami!" a voice snapped. Hikari jumped and looked over her shoulder. Their dance team instructor, who was coincidentally also the girls' PE teacher and therefore someone the girls knew very well, stood on the far side of the gymnasium with her hand hovering over the light switches set into the wall. The other girls were nowhere to be seen, having already disappeared into cars or the torrent of rain as they hurried to catch the next bus home. "I've got to close up. Get out of here." The words weren't spoken unkindly, but they were final in a sort of way that made Hikari only nod and smile at her sensei.

She chose the yearbook room over the subway station; she'd work herself up to that point, she told herself as she trudged through water that seeped through the canvas material of her tennis shoes and made her feet cold and damp. By the time she had reached the back entrance to the school, which was closest to the gym building, Hikari's short hair was plastered to her pale face, and her jeans, t-shirt, and sweatshirt were drenched to uselessness. Hikari shivered as she stepped inside, sheltered for a brief time from the onslaught of the late-season rain. She wished it were snow; snow took a while before it made you wet and uncomfortable. Rain wasted no time.

If it was even possible, her shivering got worse as she walked through the halls, footfalls quick and squishy as her wet tennis shoes slapped against the tiles. She didn't really like being in the school when it was empty, seemingly alone with nothing but the shadows. Even when she had sneaked into the school to go to the Digital World, she had been with her friends. She wasn't alone. Alone was a really daunting prospect, and she wasn't sure if it was general discomfort or the cold that made her convulse with shivers. Maybe it was both. Either way, she almost dropped her bag twice as she hurried up the stairs, rounded the corner, and fiddled with the sticky door knob to get inside.

"Hi-ka-ri," a male voice rang out, and her heart sank. She thought it was Daisuke, in all honesty. That kind of call was just his thing, and hadn't the soccer team's practice been canceled due to the weather? But maybe he was like Taichi, and played no matter what the weather, and then complained of this "mysterious illness" he caught, which Hikari liked to subtly suggest might be pneumonia or stupidity. Weren't they both rather contagious?

But when she lifted her eyes to face (with courage, she told herself melodramatically) who had called her name, she was rather embarrassed to find that it wasn't Daisuke who jogged towards her after that enthusiastic hello. It was Takeru, looking in a very good mood indeed. He slowed to a stop, blue eyes raking over her while she blushed with embarrassment that she was thankful he couldn't understand.

"You look like a drowned cat," he observed. He was smiling, as though he were amused. Her cheeks grew hotter yet. Maybe he did know; maybe she deserved the not-so-flattering remark. But that didn't mean it didn't sting like the cold rain outside, coming from Takeru.

"You're such a charmer, you are." She rolled her eyes, but she couldn't help but giggle as she shouldered open the yearbook room. It was nearly impossible to stay angry at Takeru. She wasn't even angry. She just didn't know how to reply to such a comment; insult was about as difficult for her to process as flattery.

"No offense," he grinned. She cringed. She really hated when people tacked that on to something they said, as though that made it better. Takeru knew that too, but he seemed in high spirits despite the dismal weather. She couldn't find it in her heart to snap at her best friend. He followed her inside the yearbook room, leaning against a filing cabinet while she took a seat at one of the three computers the staff had available to them. They were valuable resource, and often competed for during yearbook meetings. No one wanted to do the work by hand anymore, and although Hikari didn't mind, it would be quicker to check off what she had to finish by just glancing at the computer and highlighting a few words than digging around for the to-do lists and meeting records, you know? She hoped it was something small, like making sure no one needed to have a last minute picture taken, or setting pages. Mindless work was good for rainy days like that day.

"Basketball team didn't have practice today," Hikari stated unnecessarily; their teams, dance and basketball, alternated usage of the gymnasium. Takeru didn't point that out though; he just nodded confirmation.

"Journalism," he explained. "Mom complained about my lack of educational extracurriculars, remember?" He rolled his eyes, but Hikari smiled. He liked the club, for all his complaints about having too much to do. He was a gifted writer,...and was constantly trying to talk Hikari into joining for the photojournalism aspect. "Speaking of which," he added in what he apparently thought was a subtle, casual tone, "we're looking for photographers..."

"I already have yearbook. And photography club. And dance team. And your games and Daisuke's and Ken's games and Nii-san's games and Sora's matches, regular e-mails with Mimi and Wallace, your brother's concerts,... Oh yeah, and homework," she added, as though as an after thought. Takeru laughed. "I don't have time for another club, Takeru."

"Yeah, yeah." He laughed again, and they faded into a comfortable silence as she tackled her work. She wondered why he stayed, vaguely. He did that sometimes, when they were after school together. But surely, he could have gotten home by now. It was only getting colder out, and the rain lashing against the window didn't seem to be showing any signs of letting up.

"Seriously, Hikari, you're drenched." Speaking of the rain. There was none of that teasing air he had taken to in the hall way now. He sounded all serious, like his brother when he got in an overprotective phase. Hikari sighed. "Did you run laps around the school or something? Talk about a tough dance class." He was trying to joke, but she still caught the heavy undercurrents of concern. He really was her best friend, but she thought the concern was unnecessary. She'd be fine. It rained a lot in Japan, but that didn't mean she liked it. Just meant she didn't complain out loud anymore, because what was the use in complaining about the inevitable?

"And you're observant," she teased.

"Ha ha. My side hurts from laughing," he said dryly. Hikari smiled a small smile.

"The rain picked up while I was crossing the lawn, that's all," she shrugged, typing away at the computer. Set this picture, add this caption... and she'd be done with her quota for the day. She should have talked less during her lunch period; she'd be speeding towards a fleece blanket, old foreign films, and hot chocolate right now. So would Takeru. "I might be a few minutes. It's alright if you wanna head home," she said, glancing over her shoulder at the blond.

"I've got nowhere to be," he replied. Hikari didn't reply, just frowned and went back to her work. She wasn't at it for more than a minute before Takeru interrupted again.

"Aren't you cold?"

"A little." To say she wasn't would have been a lie; she was still shivering, trapped in soaked clothes that she couldn't get out of until she finished up and went home. Anticipation was making her work sloppy, so that she had to consciously go back and reset this image, or change this font. It was taking twice as long as it should have, and her leg was bouncing with impatience.

"You're going to get sick," he said with a frown. She knew because she glanced over her shoulder when he said that. She smiled and shook her head, but the look in his oceanic blue eyes told her that he didn't believe her. No one ever did, when it came to her own well being. They said things like "you work too hard" and "don't worry about worrying us". She wasn't. She just wanted to get this darn work done so she could take a scalding hot shower when she got home, find some warm flannel jammies, and curl up for the night. No worrying necessary.

"It's fine," she insisted.

"How much do you have to do?"

She glanced at the computer and sighed. "Just two more pages." Not difficult work, but it grew complicated if her mind wasn't focused on the task. And it was difficult to focus when your jeans felt like they weighed fifteen pounds and your sweater had weights in the pockets, and she had to keep forcing her wet hair from her face because the water dripped and distracted her.

"Can you do them tomorrow? We have a free period second. I'll come with you," he offered, and her frown deepened. That thought had occurred to her as well, although she didn't want to admit it. Procrastination wasn't her thing; Taichi had claimed that one.

"I could..." she conceded slowly. Cold battled with responsibility, and she was afraid that cold might be winning.

"I have an extra sweater in my locker. C'mon," Takeru insisted; it was obvious he was on Cold's side, she thought with a mixture of amusement and annoyance as she let him pull her to her feet. She didn't let him drag her away from the computer though, not before she could save her work and shut down. She really might cry if all her work was lost in a moment of irresponsibility; it had been _that_ kind of day. And yes, she was only too happy to blame the rain.

"You don't have to--" she said quickly, looking uneasy. "It'll just get wet."

" Some of us also have umbrellas," he chuckled, cutting across her objections as he led her to his locker on the floor above. They passed a few teachers, but no one gave them more than a passing glance. It wasn't unusual for students to be at the school until almost supper time. On some days, Hikari _was_ one of those students.

" I hoped the rain would hold off," she admitted with a sigh. Takeru laughed. He was always in such a _good_ mood, no matter what the weather was like or what was going on. She could remember only a handful of times when he had been anything but, and she hoped it would be a long time until she saw that angry or mournful spark in his eyes ever again. Happiness suited him much better, but on days like today she felt plain and dreary compared to him.

"I'm surprised it held off as long as it did," he replied, folding his hands behind his head. She raised her eyebrows, something that didn't go unnoticed. "Hey! It could've rained while we were getting to school."

She thought of her plain white uniform shirt folded and tucked inside her school bag. "No, thank you." Takeru laughed again, and she couldn't help but smile. She could be in a better mood inside, sheltered from the rain and walking with her own personal sun. She wished he could make her teeth stop chattering though. He glanced at her with concern.

" I swear, 'Kari," he said, shaking his head and using the childhood nickname that he only used sometimes when no one was around to hear. "You've got no blood."

"I do too!" she exclaimed, folding her arms over her chest as much for warmth as out of indignation.

"It's just got chunks of ice floating in it," he teased. She scowled. It wasn't her fault she was always cold, especially lately. The weather was screwy, in her defense. Cold and wet and cold and dry and warm and wet, but never warm and dry. She liked warm and dry, when she could wear cute shirts and skirts and shorts and enjoy the fields without an umbrella and those little Hot Pocket things to keep her hands warm. Hers had lost their punch a long time ago, as in before the rain even hit Odaiba district.

"Jerk," she mumbled. Takeru smiled at her.

"Love you too, Hikari," he said breezily.

For some reason, the casualness bothered her. It shouldn't have. They were friends, good friends. Just friends. For some reason that bothered her too. Geez, was she PMSing or what?

Comfortable silence seemed to define Hikari and Takeru's friendship. He was the one person she didn't feel the need to entertain, to smile for, like a dog put on display at those dog shows. Those were sad, she thought, like beauty pageants for little kids. Dogs were supposed to play, kids were supposed to get muddy and laugh about it, not cry because their curls came out. She didn't feel suffocated under pressure around Takeru, forced to impress at all times. In fact, he tended to call her out when she started acting like that, reminding her that it was _him_ she was talking to. Like she could ever forget. He had told her once, a few times really, that she was the same to him. They _got_ each other. He was her best friend.

And while "comfortable" was not exactly a word in Hikari's vocabulary that day, it wasn't because her and Takeru had fallen into silence. It wasn't even because he had used that _L_ word so loosely, although that was certainly on her mind. She was only uncomfortable because she could hear her tennis shoes squishing and sloshing and squeaking so loudly that they echoed through the empty halls. She grinned despite herself. When your day by definition _blows_, you can either laugh or you can cry. It took a lot to make Hikari Yagami cry. She wasn't quite laughing though. She just remembered running down this hall when she was still in primary school, before Takeru had moved to Odaiba, because she had bet Daisuke she was a faster runner than he was. He hadn't believed her. She'd won, by the way. In case you were wondering.

The moments passed quickly with Takeru, enjoyable but peaceful in a way that her school day never was. Takeru always teased her and called her one of the "popular" kids, but she didn't like it. She didn't like that someone always expected her to have something to say, that she could never just sit at her desk and put her head down. She was always _with_ people, people who talked and shouted and linked arms and tried talk her into doing things that even Taichi might not do on a dare. Takeru didn't do that. So when the moments passed quickly, it was both good and bad, happy and upsetting because she felt like they went by too quickly to cherish. She liked to cherish her time with her best friend.

"Here ya go," Takeru said, tossing a navy blue sweatshirt at Hikari. She caught it easily. "At least you'll be wearing one thing that's kinda dry." He sighed at the state of her jeans, but unless he miraculously had an entire outfit stashed in the depths of his locker, there wasn't anything to be done about it. And she thought she might draw the line at wearing his pants; he would have too much fun making "Hikari got in my pants yesterday" jokes just to irritate Daisuke. She didn't understand those two's friendship at all; half the time they were best of friends, and the rest of the time they were egging the other on to fight them. It made no sense to her.

"Thanks," she mumbled; she still wasn't pleased, convinced she was going to just end up with _two_ wet sweatshirts to toss in the dryer when she got home, but she knew that rejecting it was out of the question. It wasn't just a matter of being rude; Takeru would force her out of her damp sweatshirt and into his dry one of she tried to resist. So she fought to get her soaked one off, and he took pity and helped when when she looked ready to just throw his on over it in surrender.

"It was really comin' down, huh," he asked with a chuckle as he helped her pull her arm out of the sleeve. She just grunted her reply. It was too obvious an answer.

But eventually, they got it off, and she shrugged into his warm sweatshirt only to find herself shivering more profusely than before. Now that she felt warmth, she realized just how cold she really was. He was frowning at her worriedly.

"Maybe Yamato's practice is over and he can..." he began to suggest, but she shook her head.

"Three blocks, and then the ride home isn't too bad," she insisted through chattering teeth. He didn't look convinced, but he sighed. He got her to take his sweatshirt; taking anything else just wouldn't be Hikari-like at all.

Takeru sighed again and grabbed his umbrella before he slammed the locker shut; it wasn't out of anger, but necessity. The lockers in the junior high took a beating and in dire need of replacing. "Alrighty. Let's hit the road, Jack," he said with a grin. The good mood was back, masking his irritation with her stubbornness. She knew it was there though. His eyes had been tight, if only for a minute, as he looked her over again. He worried too much.

So did she, he'd shoot back if she told him that. So she kept her mouth shut about it.

"Jack," she asked curiously as they headed downstairs towards the school's main entrance.

"So I listen to American music." He shrugged and grinned. "It was a good reference."

"...Of course it was." She smiled as he rolled his eyes in mock insult. He took her less-than-jovial moods in good grace, she had to give him that.

But the smile disappeared as they reached the doors, and just as she had suspected, it had gotten darker and drearier out, which meant that it was colder. And it was still wet. Hikari sighed and tightened her grip on the strap of her bag. She could have seriously done without the rain.

Takeru took one look outside and opened his umbrella; it was black. She supposed it was his mother's. Hikari couldn't remember him owning something black that wasn't a pen. Takeru just wasn't a "black" kinda person. He thought it was depressing. Hikari did too, but that was because Hikari had touched shadows. She had heard them speak, felt them calling to her. She didn't want to wear a color that was trademarked by shadows.

"Mimi says that's bad luck, you know," she said conversationally, nodding to the open umbrella. Takeru grinned at her.

"S'alright, I broke Mom's mirror this morning running out of the house. I'm all lucked out," he said, sounding oddly cheerful about the fact as he joined her so that the umbrella was over her head as well. "Ready?"

"As much as I'll ever be," she said with a dramatic sigh, and Takeru laughed before shouldering open the door. It took a bit of maneuvering for them to get through the doorway because Hikari was not quite as willing to do without the umbrella as she claimed, and Takeru was holding it. But they managed it somehow, and even Hikari was laughing by the time they squeezed their way through the door frame.

"There you go," Takeru teased, laughing also. "You need to loosen up more."

It had the opposite effect than what Hikari thought he was going for. The laughter died away, and he frowned.

"The rain always puts you in a bad mood," he mused out loud, and Hikari shrugged in reply.

"I like the sun." It wasn't such a weird thing, she thought. Lots of people didn't like the rain.

"So do I. But the rain is nice." Hikari quirked an eyebrow, and Takeru shrugged. "It's...I don't know, refreshing. I don't like it so much when it's cold," he conceded, sticking a hand out from under the umbrella and pulling it back under after a few droplets chilled his palm. "But I still like the rain."

"I don't know why. It's wet," Hikari argued, making a face. Takeru snickered.

"You're such a cat person."

"Good! Me and Tailmon will curl up with hot chocolate while you try coax Patamon into flying around in the rain with you," Hikari shot back, sticking her tongue out.

"We'll make a game out of it," Takeru agreed smugly. "Dodging rain drops."

"That's impossible," Hikari said, blinking at him. He grinned.

"That's what makes it fun."

She stifled a giggle. "You're so weird."

"Says the girl who hears voices in her head," he retorted. But his expression didn't match his words. He was glancing at her, making sure his comment didn't go too far. She wasn't sure it didn't, but she tried to ignore it. It had been a long time since anything like _that_ had happened. The digital world wasn't crying for help anymore. The shadows weren't reaching for her hand. Everything was fine. Except the stupid rain.

"I heard the best artists hear voices," she replied calmly, and he looked uncertain, like he wanted to be relieved but wasn't sure he should be. But he let it go; after all, he didn't seem to know what else to do with it.

"Are you saying I'm not an artist," he asked, looking shocked. She giggled.

"May~be." Like I said, it was hard for her to stay in a very bad mood when she was walking with Takeru. Their spats might be childish, but they were only in good fun, and never meant to hurt or judge. They were only meant to make the other smile, and Hikari needed a good laugh. Mondays were never good days for anybody. Anybody normal, anyway, and she liked to think of herself as normal. It had been a long time since she had been "extraordinary", and she was happy with it that way. Center stage had never been the place where she wanted to be. She was content to cheer from the sidelines, like she always had for her brother.

"Have you ever tasted a rain drop," Takeru asked suddenly, a seemingly random question to follow their teasing banter. Hikari blinked, her mind reeling from the sudden change in direction.

"Um." was all she said.

"Like, caught one on your tongue?"

"I don't play in the rain," she said slowly, looking at him as though her best friend had most certainly lost his mind. His expression mirrored hers. "I've caught snow flakes," she said defensively.

"Then today will be a new experience," he said cheerfully, lowering the umbrella from over their heads. Hikari's eyes widened.

"Heyy!" She squeaked as a large rain drop plopped right between her eyes and made her squeeze them shut reflexively.

"C'mon, you won't melt."

"It's _cold_, Takeru," she insisted, shivering as another raindrop, and another, cascaded down on her.

"And wet. I know." He grinned. "The subway's _right_ ahead. Like, a minute away. Less, if we run like hell." She didn't know _why_ he was still smiling, but he was.

"Why are you my best friend again," she demanded to know, and he chuckled and tilted his head back, his face lifted to the sky as rain continued to gently plop against his skin. He looked serene, and kind of pretty – and Hikari did not use the word "pretty" to describe guys very often – standing like that. Then he kind of ruined the effect by sticking his tongue out to catch a raindrop, causing people passing by to pause before hurrying on; it was too cold and stormy for adults to care about the weird antics of a couple teenagers for very long.

He lowered his eyes back to Hikari. "Do it, go on," he insisted, and she frowned doubtfully before tilting her head back, if only so that they could keep moving again. His sweatshirt was going to be as soaked as the clothes tucked into her bag before long, standing around in this weather. "Open your mouth," he coached. But she shook her head. "You're such a killjoy," he accused, and she lowered her face again, shaking her wet hair out of her face.

"That's like drinking out of the hose," she insisted, making a face of disgust as she reached for the umbrella. He handed it to her; he wanted to walk in the rain, but he wasn't going to make her do the same. Besides, he really did seem concerned that she might get sick, although obviously the same concern or thought did not extend to his own well-being. She reached for his hand and yanked him underneath the shelter of the umbrella, ignoring his childish, pleading pout.

"We can run," he suggested. At first, she thought he meant to make her drop the umbrella again. But then she realized she was shivering again, teeth clenched against the cold. The activity would keep her warm, in theory anyway.

"We can run," she agreed, and with a challenging grin she added, "and I bet I can beat cha."

"Do I _look_ like Daisuke," he demanded, sounding offended. Of course, she had wasted no time in telling him about beating Daisuke, one day when they were talking on the phone before he moved. She had told him about beating a boy in her class, and had been really proud of it. He had laughed when he realized the boy she had beaten was their own egotistical, obnoxiously loveable Daisuke. And by "loveable" she meant "tolerable because he was like a poorly trained puppy that wibbled on the carpet when he was excited", a comparison that had made Miyako choke with laughter when Hikari had voiced it serenely during a group get together during which Daisuke had been particularly obnoxious. He never lived it down.

"In the nose area," she replied teasingly. "If I squint my eyes a little, like this." And she demonstrated, and he narrowed his eyes challengingly. She giggled.

"It is _so_ on, Yagami," he said with mock formality. And then they were running, umbrella trailing upside-down behind them as the wind flipped the top out while they ran, giggling like little kids despite the chill of the icy water that splashed in their eyes and made seeing difficult. As Takeru had said, at least the subway station wasn't very far away, and within moments it seemed they were running down the stairs to the sub-level, dripping wet and thoroughly entertained.

"I definitely won," Hikari insisted, breathing heavily. She was still in better shape than Takeru though, who didn't spend his entire childhood with an older sibling more interested in kicking a soccer ball around than watching television and playing video games (not that Taichi didn't do enough of that as well).

"Keep telling yourself that, Hikari," Takeru laughed.

"I _did!_ Geez. You and Daisuke, can't even handle being beat by a girl," she teased, sticking her tongue out at him. Takeru returned the gesture before tackling the task of righting the umbrella, which both of them considered useless at this point. They had underestimated just how heavily it was raining, and as Hikari predicted, Takeru's sweatshirt was drenched. He took one look at it and frowned.

"And now you're all wet again," he said, shaking his head. "That was a dumb idea."

"Yeah, it was," Hikari agreed, and Takeru frowned at her. Obviously, her support was not entirely wanted this round. "But it was fun." She smiled at him. She didn't think he believed her though. He still looked at her doubtfully, one hand holding the folded up umbrella as it dripped alongside him and one hand readjusting his bag, which had fallen while they were running.

"Let's get you home before you come down with something and Tai kills me," he said with a small smile. It was back to _that_. She rolled her eyes, but she followed him to the ticket booth to pay for the fare home. They could still hear the rain, however faintly, pounding against the asphalt overhead before they got too close to the carts to hear anything more than each other's voices and their own thoughts when they fell into contented silence. But the sound of the rain didn't annoy her like it had all day, like it had _every _day that it had rained. Because now she had a memory, a mental snapshot of a blue eyed boy with hair like the sun letting the rain hit his face and wash away every worry and every concern and every fear that the brunette walking with him would reject his peaceful moment.


	5. Colored Lights, and Our Hands Touch

**Author's note:** I had something in mind for this chapter. Now, I'm beginning to think that the best part about it is the title, lol. But while I was working on this, I was watching Digimon Hurricane Touchdown! Supreme Evolution, and did anyone else happen to catch Takeru's expression when Wallace kissed Hikari's cheek? It was like, "wait, huh?!" and it was cute, and made me giggle, and added a little inspiration where there was none. Elsewise, I'm not entirely sure where my brain was while I was writing.

And you totally don't care, so why don't I just get on with it then?

* * *

**Colored Lights, and Our Hands Touch**

* * *

"Are you sure I shouldn't, I don't know, _pay_," Hikari asked while Takeru led the way through the complicated back corridors of the concert hall. There were so many rooms off limits to visitors, that were for use of the hall owners only, that Hikari had begun to wonder where the band _could_ enter. Takeru had explained, with a small laugh, that they could enter the stage. And back stage. And any more than that, and he replied with vague "Maybe"s that made Hikari frown. He was being intentionally difficult, and she wasn't sure if it was funny or annoying.

"Come on, you're with me. And I'm not paying," he shrugged. "Yamato won't care."

Hikari sighed and shook her head, but she didn't argue anymore. They weren't really going out into the audience anyway... so she told herself. She still kept looking over her shoulder from time to time, as though she was expecting security guards to like, tackle her to the ground and drag her away. But no such thing happened; soon, Takeru had put a finger to his lips and motioned for her to follow him threw a door. It wasn't out of fear of being caught that he was silent; back stage, every sound could carry. They didn't want to ruin the show.

When they did speak, it was in whispers.

"Takeru, did you even _ask_ Yamato if this was okay?" Takeru rolled his eyes and sighed, but he was grinning. Grinning in a 'You're obnoxious' kind of way, but he was grinning.

"Has he ever said no?"

"...No," Hikari replied hesitantly.

"Come on, relax. Enjoy the show. We have the best seats in the house," he added with a wink, and she couldn't help but giggle. Takeru had this way of making her relax, unwind when she was being too uptight, and reminding her that she was still a kid. Just because she was still picking up after her brother (whose side of the room was just... disgusting, honestly) didn't mean she couldn't relax and have some fun. And he never let her do anything less.

They fell into a comfortable silence as the band began to play. They really were good; although Yamato had actually confessed that he didn't think he'd be playing in a band ten years from now, Hikari thought he was good enough to. She never asked why; discussing the future became scarier and scarier the closer it came to her. Miyako had become nearly impossible to talk to regarding anything concerning school, the future, or even getting a job. She was in her first year of high school, and if that was how stressed high schoolers were, then HIkari wasn't sure she wanted to follow them. But follow she would, because she had little other choice. Even Taichi had gone, and he didn't even like school despite that he did better at it than many suspected. Hikari had a funny feeling that the only reason he even showed up was because soccer practice was right after school.

Takeru found some chairs for them, fold-up chairs but they were chairs nonetheless. Hikari smiled thanks, but the bass was too loud to actually speak. But she was okay with silence; she could carry a conversation, but she wasn't really a big talker. That was Taichi. She preferred to listen, and the music consumed all of her attention.

Takeru nudged her when the song ended.

"Still feeling guilty," he asked with a grin. She hadn't realized she was smiling, a small smile that came over her whenever she listened to a song she liked. Maybe she had spent too much time around Yamato in recent years, but his love of music had rubbed off on her. More than half of her library was music that he had performed or recommended, and the rest was a collection Takeru had gotten together for her that he thought Yamato neglected because "he was too jealous of their skill to give them props". Takeru's words, not hers.

"I guess... Yamato will say so, if he doesn't like us back here," she allowed hesitantly, as though she were loathe to allow Takeru to win this....argument? Debate? She wasn't really sure what the word was, but the word itself didn't really matter. Takeru laughed, and then the first chord of the next song played, and they fell silent. Not for very long though. The song hadn't finished when Takeru nudged her shoulder again.

"What," she asked, although she wasn't sure he could hear her. She couldn't hear _herself_, but he must have figured out what she was saying.

"I want to see from the front," he said, and she frowned. She couldn't read lips very well. He rolled his eyes and repeated it again, more slowly and dramatically so that she could catch the words. Then he gave up and pointed to the audience, which they could just see through the curtains. Hikari frowned.

"Um..." She stalled, but he had already gotten up and was walking towards the door they had come in through, and after a nervous glance at the stage crew who weren't paying attention, she hurried after him. He was waiting for her, holding the heavy metal door open, when she caught up.

"It's no big deal," he promised for the millionth time, grinning. On the other side of the door, they could hear each other speak just fine. But that didn't mean Hikari was convinced.

"I don't think we should, Takeru... _Takeru_," she hissed in a whisper, because he ignored her and walked ahead, and while she was voicing her opposition to his idea, he had engaged in conversation with the guard to the side entrance of the auditorium. Honestly! He listened about as well as Taichi and Yamato when they were on a roll, stubborn idiots. But she couldn't really think the word idiots seriously, and about halfway through the word faded away and she smiled a small smile. She found it hard to be annoyed at any of them for long, most of all her brother and Takeru. And Yamato was, well, Yamato. She understood him, in a weird way. He acted like another big brother to her, although Taichi was _more_ than enough big brother for one girl.

"He said it's cool. Karou knows I'm with Yamato," Takeru grinned, giving her the thumbs up. The security guard smiled at her. He didn't look very secure, she thought as she returned the smile in a stiff, polite sort of way. She didn't approve of him letting them through, even if she was a teensy bit grateful they wouldn't get into any trouble. She didn't like this, Takeru getting his way the whole time. It was bound to go to his head, and she was the one who had to put up with the consequences! He should have scolded Takeru, or something. Or... She didn't know what, really, but _something_! Like, "I'll let you in this time, but you really should pay or make sure your brother gives you a pass to get you in the clear." Something like that.

She still thanked the guard, though. Polite was polite, even if she didn't always like it. Or she didn't like admitting she liked it.

"We missed the best part of the song," Takeru complained, but he was grinning and trying to wave to his brother, not that Yamato could see them in the sea of hundreds. Literally. The theater was packed. People were pressed against the stage, screaming and cheering and shoving against each other in an attempt to get closer to the band. It made Hikari uncomfortable, but Takeru shoved into the throng, beaming at Hikari like he was having the time of his life. He always was, she thought. And it was hard not to follow him, as though some of that sheer bliss was contagious.

And maybe it was, even if it was just a little bit. It was hard _not_ to smile around Takeru, to feel annoyed or disappointed while he was cheering for his brother with everyone else. Hikari giggled. He was like a little kid at a zoo. Maybe a little too literally; the fans around them vaguely resembled animals. She edged closer to Takeru. The crowd made her uneasy. It was much too tight, and she found herself almost wishing they had stayed back stage.

But she couldn't deny that the show was much more fun from the front. She let herself get lost in it: the cheers, the heat of the crowd, the pulse of the bass and the vibration of the music _through_ her. Time passes a lot faster when you're caught in the moment instead of looking forward to the end of the hour. And as begrudging as she was to admit it, she wasn't looking forward to the end of the hour. She was really enjoying herself, despite her hesitation. Takeru knew it, too, even though they had gotten separated by a few people in the crowd. At one point, he managed to catch her eye and he grinned, a knowing smirk making his eyes glow. She laughed, but inside she groaned. He'd make sure to remind her how much fun she had later, again and again until she shouted it in submission. He was such a _boy_ sometimes.

But he wasn't the only boy in the crowd. It was strange, because when Hikari thought of Yamato's fanbase (excluding her and the other Chosen, of course), she thought of girls like Jun and Momoe. She thought of screaming and giggling and crying when they saw him kiss Sora after a show, or randomly in public where people could see. She thought of shining eyes and too little clothing. Not boys in baggy jeans with shaggy brown hair, winking at her when they caught her eye.

It confused her, but she smiled back. She was being polite, you know.

"Dance with me, Bright Eyes." It wasn't a request; it sounded more like a demand. But she had little choice but to comply in the tight quarters, where the littlest movement felt like dancing anyway. The crowd itself made you sway in time to the drummer's beat. His hand was on her waist, and her her cheeks felt hot. She didn't do this, she didn't like to do this. But it felt rude to tell him to get the heck off, and he wasn't being overly vivacious and inappropriate. The touch was light, the only sign that they were dancing 'together' at all.

"You don't strike me as the sorta gal who goes to concerts," he said loudly, almost at a shout; the mosh was a bit...rambunctious, to say the very least. Hikari had to pay half a mind to make sure she stayed on her feet; she couldn't figure out a way to keep Takeru within her sights and escape the crowd. Of course, the idea had occurred to her to just meet him back stage with Yamato after, but the problem still remained of separating herself from the seething masses. It seemed an impossible task, one she had surrendered tackling about the same time she decided to just enjoy herself and worry later.

"I go to Yamato's," she clarified, and the answer felt a little defensive. She wasn't _that_ out of place, was she? Granted, she was wearing jeans and an easter pink pea coat instead of clubbing outfits that so many girls donned for the evening, but it was _cold_ out. They were all insane.

Then again ...Maybe that was his point...

"Yamato? You're a friend of the band," he asked, pausing in his swaying dance with his eyebrows raised. Mr. No-name seemed impressed, but Hikari only shrugged like it was no big deal. Of course, to her, it wasn't. She knew that several members of the audience were likely to disagree, though.

"She's here with his brother," a voice said loudly behind her; of course, everyone had to speak loudly this close to the stage between the screaming crowd and the pulsing music. Hikari turned her head to see Takeru, looking strangely irritated. He placed a hand on her shoulder, and No-Name released her. There was none of the joking, cheerful gleam in Takeru's eye now. He looked a little protective, the way he did when Miyako giggled and insisted that boys at the mall were looking at Hikari. She never saw it, but apparently they did.

"I take it that's you." The boy flashed a bright smile that Takeru returned icily. She'd never noticed that before – that striking resemblance to his big brother. She wasn't entirely sure she liked it.

"Yepp."

"Takeru..." Hikari frowned at him, but he seemed to ignore it. He was still staring at Mr. No Name, who looked thoroughly unbothered by Takeru's gaze. Weird, because it was making_ Hikari_ uncomfortable.

"Looks like you're spoken for tonight," the guy said with another wink, and Hikari blinked. She felt a blush rising in her cheeks. Daisuke was the only guy who flirted with her. And Wallace, but Wallace had kissed Miyako too. He probably would have Sora and Mimi, if they were there. That was just who Wallace was, and Daisuke she was much too used to to care much. This guy was a complete stranger, and it felt... weird. And oddly flattering. It wasn't like he wasn't cute or anything. "G'bye, Bright Eyes." And he disappeared into the crowd as easily as he had separated from it, blending in with the moshers as he returned to his fun-filled, music-pumped, adrenaline-rushing evening.

"Takeru," Hikari said again, but when she returned her attention to him, the icy smile was gone. Had she imagined it? She blinked, and he was shaking his head and chuckling to himself.

"You're oblivious to _life_, Hikari," he said, laughing. There was something humorless in his laughter though, a bitter note that she couldn't help but frown at. She couldn't have imagined that too, could she?

"I am not," she argued, scowling. But he ignored her, reaching for her wrist and tugging so that she had no choice but to follow. They weaved their way out of the crowd together, Hikari nearly tripping several times and only retaining her balance because of Takeru's grip on her wrist, which he transferred to her hand after the third time she stumbled so that she could get a tighter hold if she needed the help.

But he was still holding her hand when they were in the hallway, the sound of the music muted once again by the thick walls and metal fire-safety doors.

"Takeru..." It was the third time she called his name in the past ten minutes, but this time it was quiet, questioning. She stopped walking, and the tug on his hand signaled him to stop too. Maybe it was that which reminded him that he still held her hand, because he let it drop quickly. Her hand fell to her side, limp and...cold? "We were just dancing," she said with a frown. "And talking."

"I'm sure that's all he wanted," Takeru said with a roll of his eyes, and she could see that he was trying to play it off like he was joking around, the way that Miyako and Sora did when they teased Hikari about boys. But it didn't work out so well, coming from him. It stung, just a little.

"You're being silly," she said with a shake of her head. She expected this sort of overprotective behavior from her brother, and even from Daisuke. But from Takeru? He was supposed to protect her from monsters and things that went bump in the night. Not _boys_. She could handle boys, she thought. She said so, too. Or at least, the boys part. She left the part about things that went bump in the night in her brain, deposited in a safety box of memories that really kind of _sucked_, but which were made warmer and slightly less frightening by the fact that Takeru had always pulled her out of them.

"Provided you can tell that they're hitting on you." He stuck his tongue out at her, and _that_ came out as a teasing remark, one that she felt more comfortable retaliating to.

"I think you're just jealous another boy winked at me," she said, giggling. But Takeru didn't laugh, not right away. She didn't recognize the look in his eyes, but in another second it was gone and he was laughing.

"_Please_ . I watch Daisuke drool over you all the time," he said, flicking an invisible piece of lint from his shoulder.

"Does Daisuke count as a boy," Hikari mused outloud, tapping her index finger against her lip. Takeru snickered. They were walking again, though not towards the auditorium, or even back stage. They were wandering the maze of halls and corridors in the back of the building, the ones that Hikari had been so nervous walking down not more than an hour ago. Now, she barely even noticed.

"Nah, probably not. I think he cried when I beat him in basketball," Takeru agreed. Hikari raised her eyebrows.

"You didn't really make him cry," she said skeptically. Takeru grinned.

"Not really. But I think he would have, if, you know, his ego wasn't bigger than his hair."

"He really should cut it," Hikari agreed, shaking her head.

"His ego, or his hair?"

"His hair, Silly. How do you cut an ego?"

"I guess you're right. You pop it. With a pin." Takeru paused, looking thoughtful. "I wonder if that's why he wears his goggles."

"Huh?"

"You know, to keep the ego contained?"

"Takeru!" She giggled, smothering the sound with her palm. It still echoed in the empty hall.

They were silent for a moment. Then, Takeru stopped walking. The only clue she had was that his foot steps stopped echoing off the walls, and her suddenly sounded very lonely. She stopped a few steps ahead, turning with her brow brought together questioningly.

"Hey," he said, sounding suddenly serious.

"Hm?"

"Um, look. That guy... If you wanna go back and try find him,..." He looked uncomfortable. Nervous? No, she didn't really think so. Guilty, like he felt bad for pulling her away when he thought she might have actually been enjoying herself. She had been, sort of, but she had a feeling it was for a different reason than he thought. She just liked meeting new people, and she liked making friends with strangers. That was the only way to make them _not_ strangers, right? It wasn't because she was actually interested in what Takeru was suggesting Mr. No-Name had been after. "I mean, if you were... into him or something, I'm sorry... if I messed it up." Definitely uncomfortable. He wasn't quite meeting her eye, but looking over her shoulder instead. But Hikari smiled.

"I don't really like being in the mosh pit, I think," she shrugged, and he blinked at her. "Too noisy. And crowded."

Takeru smiled. "I didn't ruin your night?" He looked hopeful, the embodiment of his crest, like a little kid waiting to hear they were in the clear and out of trouble. Hikari giggled and shook her head.

"Of course not, Silly."

She didn't think he ever could.


	6. Hot Chocolate With You

**Author's note: **I _think_ the remnants of the original idea are from another fanfic I read a really long time ago, but I'm not entirely sure. At any rate, I've had many a miserable day standing in the rain for a bus that apparently decided to skip that stop _two loops in a row_. Oh, a little bitter am I? No, not at all...

By the way, didn't I warn you that a bit of a time line was developing? I'm just kind of going with it. So they're one shots, but sort of not one shots? I don't know. I give up trying to explain my brain, lol. Just enjoy it or don't.

On another note, I've realized I've got a fascination with the concept of rain and storms lately. Apparently that's an insight to my psychological profile. Or maybe I'm just really cold, and it was icy and rainy for the past two weekends. Who knows, really? The hot chocolate's gotta mean something too. I've been drinking that stuff like _crazyyyy_, man.

I also realized I like, never do a Takari story from Takeru's perspective, at least not very often. So here's my shot at delving into Blondie's brain. Shouldn't be too hard, eh? We share a hair color... He's considerably cuter, more loveable, and talented than I am, but here's to hoping, lol.

* * *

**Hot Chocolate With You**

* * *

Hats had a purpose, once. They were designed cleverly, and with a thought in mind. They weren't _just _a fashion statement. They were a thing of use, a witty little contraption that protected the head from the elements. In the summer, it kept sun out of the wearer's eyes and from burning their scalp. In the winter, it kept the head warm and cozy in a wool covering. When it rained, it was supposed to keep your head from getting drenched.

Obviously, hat production has gone down in recent years.

Takeru shook his head, a useless attempt to get his hair out of his eyes. Maybe his mother was right; he needed a hair cut. No matter what he did, the rain kept weighing his hair down, pulling it down infront of his eyes so that he could barely see through the fringe as he tried spot the bus that _never seemed to be coming_. Honestly? It had been two hours.

But maybe he'd stick around just half an hour more, and maybe it'd come around. Just half an hour, and he'd go find another bus stop. Or a taxi. He wasn't sure he had enough money on him for a taxi. Maybe the train? That was even further than the next bus stop. He loved the rain, loved the feeling of water dripping down his face and the sound puddles made when you splashed in them, but there was no denying that he was beginning to feel a _little_ bit chilled through. He'd kill for a hot chocolate right now.

Well, not literally. Okay, maybe if an evil dark spire Digimon was holding the hot chocolate... that he'd kill. Because spires didn't have souls, right? That's what he told himself, but Hikari had given him a strange look whenever they said that, as though she wasn't quite convinced.

"They think. They move. They're just... born differently, and told that this is what they do. Hurt. But I think they can do good things too," she had said once, a whispered confidence between only the two of them when the others weren't around. She had been afraid that Daisuke would laugh at her, that Miyako would be annoyed, that Iori would be disappointed and Ken. She worried too much about what the others thought. She worried too much about what she said, and did. But Takeru understood. In many ways, they were the same.

In others? Not so much. Like, she didn't really like the rain. Not the same way he did. She might have entertained his determined notion to wait for the bus through the time slot of the first loop, but then she would have quietly coerced him into hailing a taxi, and she would have tried to pay to lessen his annoyance, and she would have giggled and won. But she wasn't here, so he thought nothing at all of ignoring the shiver that traveled down his back, flipping his collar up in a desperate attempt to dissuade the rain from dripping down his neck, and standing his ground. Just one more loop, he told himself.

Or two. Two more loops. Another half hour passed, and he sneezed. One more and he'd go find the subway station. No big deal. It was just a little water.

A truck drove by, causing Takeru to sputter with cold as his legs got doused with water run over from the side of the street. Okay, he amended mentally. Maybe more than a little.

He was glad, and a little resentful at the same time, that the bus decided to round the street corner at that moment. Resentful because it waited until he _actually_ was beginning to understand why Hikari looked so sad and miserable when it rained. Hell, if she ever stood on a street corner like he was, then she'd probably developed an aversion to rain to last a lifetime. The bus slowed to a stop, gears grinding, and the brakes breathed loudly when they finally forced the tires to stop rolling along.

The bus driver looked Takeru up and down as he placed his fare into the coin slot; he forgot his bus card at home, something that made this day all the more _wonderful_. He was not a pessimistic, negative guy by any means, but this day was really beginning to grind his nerves. Like, eating the last piece of pizza or drinking the last of the soda without telling anyone else it was there. Or something. _Yamato_. I mean what?

"What'd you do, go for a swim," the bus driver asked, and he chuckled at his own lame joke. Takeru just smiled, one that felt very strained and forcibly polite. This guy was his ride home, his salvation from the rain for half an hour. It wouldn't do him any good to get thrown off for being a jerk, even if it was self-defense from Takeru's perspective.

"You'd have thought," he said with the same determinedly polite smile. And then he turned, scanning the bus for seats. There weren't many; no one wanted to so much as walk to the train station in this weather. They were waiting for the bus to bring them there, or closer to home than they were.

"Takeru?" A familiar voice, a female's, called to him from the back of the bus, but not a familiar face could be seen. He frowned and headed towards the back, figuring if there wasn't a seat then he could maybe convince someone to double up for a stop or two, just until the bus cleared out a little. But when he was further in the back (and the bus was already moving again, making Takeru have to grab each steel pole to keep himself upright at the sudden stops and starts of Tokyo traffic), he spotted the face that went with the familiar voice.

"Small world," he said, smiling at her. This time, his smile was sincere, no longer forced and strained. He couldn't _not_ smile upon seeing a friend, especially her. It was a nice surprise, one of the few all day.

"And a wet one, too," Hikari observed with a teasing smile. "It's been rainy a lot lately, hasn't it?" She scooted over and picked up her shoulder bag– he was really kind of glad the old red one had finally ripped beyond her sewing abilities, because the thing had always seemed to be bursting at the seams from her book load – and set it in her lap to make room for him to sit down. She donned a red slicker though, waist length that hugged her slender form. It was dry.

"What's your secret," he demanded, sitting next to her and shaking his hair out of his face like a wet dog. The action was semi deliberate: some of the water got on Hikari, and she wrinkled her nose up in disgust and wiped it away. She didn't like water much; she was _such_ a cat person.

"Bus stations, umbrellas, and an invisible bubble," she replied with a wink, not missing a beat. She giggled at his expression. Conversation between them was easy; it was hard for him to fake a scowl. But scowl he did and she shook her head slowly. "Silly. How long were you standing out there," she asked curiously; there was a hint of concern in her eyes as he stifled a sneeze and blinked.

"Not long," he fudged. "An hour, maybe two…"

"Two hours, Takeru?!" She flushed at how loud her voice had gotten; several people turned around in their seats and looked at her curiously. When she spoke again, her voice was softer, barely above a whisper. "You're going to get _sick_. Honestly. What happened to your umbrella from the other day?"

"Mom took it to work. I wasn't expecting to have anything to do today." It was the complete truth, but Hikari was still frowning with disapproval.

"You should have called."

"To ask for an _umbrella_? Really?" He laughed and shook his head. "It's no big. I'll change when I get home."

"Hmm." She didn't look convinced, but she didn't argue further. She just folded her hands on top of her bag and fidgeted with its strap.

"There's no school today," he pointed out, eyebrows raised. She blinked.

"So?"

"You have your bag." Obviously, it was one of those moments where the blatantly obvious statements needed to be made. She looked down at it.

"I went to the library. I have a test in chemistry come Monday. So do you," she reminded him; they were in the same class, although during different periods. Their classes followed the same curriculum and schedule for assignments though; it made doing homework much easier when he could just smile at Hikari and suggest being study buddies. Not that he used her for all the answers, but a little help with three or four… no big, right? He returned the favor in English.

"I've been studying," he said defensively. He hadn't been, really. He'd been studying for English, maybe… but he found languages fun. Science? That wasn't a language. That was a headache. Although he did find his computer science class fun; Koushiro had talked him into it, but Takeru had needed little persuasion. He had developed a certain appreciation for computers over the years, if you know what I mean.

She smiled a small knowing smile that told Takeru she didn't buy it for a minute, but she'd go along and pretend like she did for his sake. Good. Something needed to be on his side today, he decided stubbornly.

"Funny," she mused, changing the subject back again. "Weren't you the one who _liked_ the rain?"

"When I'm walking. And it doesn't more closely resemble a bucket being dumped over my head. Over. And over. And over." He echoed his point and she giggled.

"Maybe we'll go for a walk again one day," she smiled. "When the heavens don't seem to have their hearts set on making you resemble Miko after I give him a bath." Miko was her cat, by the way. Takeru shook his head with a sigh.

"You just compared me to a cat. A fat, mean cat," he said with a mournful air that made Hikari laugh again, although she rolled her eyes.

"He's not fat. It's winter fluff. And he's not _mean_," she said defensively. Did he not say that she was a cat person? Right down to the pet she had since before knowing she was one of the Chosen, like Takeru was.

"Didn't he like, attack Koramon," Takeru questioned doubtfully. She frowned.

"No, he was defending his food. Koramon was eating it all." She folded her arms over her chest, and he decided it was time to concede defeat… even if he really _did_ think that cat was mean and hateful. At least it had never scratched him.

"Alright, alright. He's not a fat, mean cat." Takeru raised his hands in defeat. "He's fluffy and protective. Agreed?"

She smiled, amused. "Agreed."

"But back to this _walk_," he said, emphasizing the word with a doubtful pause. "You hate the rain."

"I'm open to new ideas," Hikari said with a small smile. Takeru returned it slowly. "And the other day wasn't so bad," she allowed with a gentle shrug. _Everything_ about her was gentle. Her shrug, her laugh, her walk, her hands, her eyes. When he looked at Hikari, he still sometimes saw the little girl not much shorter than he, who held out her hand with a smile when everyone else was itching to launch the attack. She had welcomed the strange and unusual, and although he had often teased her over the years that it was because _she_ was weird, he had admired her for it. And remembering that eight year old girl, he didn't doubt a word she said.

"Does that mean I can get you to walk home next time it rains without complaint," he asked with a teasing twinkle in his eye. She wrinkled her nose, paused, and shrugged.

"Maybe. Depending on my mood," she allowed hesitantly. He chuckled. She cocked her head to one side curiously, shook her head and pushed his hair out of his eyes. His face felt hot where her fingertips touched. "At least it was nice for the concert though." He knew why; she had texted him later that evening. She had missed the train, although stubbornly decided not to tell him until she was already home. Stupid. He would have helped her out if she had let him know when she was at the station. They had separated early, since he decided to go to Yamato's apartment to see their dad, and Hikari insisted she could get home on her own. He'd remember not to make that mistake twice.

He shook his hair back into his face, and she rolled her eyes. He grinned, although he didn't think he'd be doing so if she had scissors handy. Sweet as she could be, he also knew she had a tough streak and wouldn't hesitate to tackle his hair with the shears. She had threatened Taichi with the same fate on several occasions, although luckily for Taichi he was faster than his sister thanks to soccer and frequent flights from Sora and Yamato chasing after him for some stunt or another.

"My home is closer than yours," she said. "Come over for a little?"

" Are you sure?" Not that he had any objections to going over; he'd long ago abandoned the habit of calling days before _actually_ going over to visit. He usually called like, when he was in the hobby. If he remembered that. Usually he just knocked and hung around with Taichi if she wasn't there. He didn't mind, really. Taichi was like a second big brother to him, a fact Yamato had had to come to terms with many years before. No, Takeru's objections had nothing to do with that. But he was a little more than drenched, something he had suspected was behind Hikari's frown when she pushed his damp hair from his equally damp forehead the way his mother used to when he was little.

Not that he was comparing Hikari to his _mother_ or anything. That was just weird, but you know.

"You can borrow one of Nii-san's sweatshirts," she said. "And I forgot to give you your sweatshirt back last night. I washed it."

" It only had a little _rain water_ on it, 'Kari," Takeru sighed, exasperated. But he was smiling. That was like her, predictably so.

"It smelled funny," she insisted defensively. He quirked an eyebrow.

"Are you saying I smell funny," he asked, feigning offense. She didn't bite.

" If you were stuffed in the same locker as your gym socks for who knows how long?" She joked. "I lied, it wasn't really _that_ bad, but it did smell kinda musty. So I figured I'd wash it as a thank you."

" Even though it'll probably get wet again walking home from your place," he pointed out. He was smiling. "Thank you. And for the record, I take my gym clothes _home_ with me. I am not as grody as Daisuke."

"Or the rest of the basketball and soccer teams," she agreed with a small smile.

"Or a large part of the school."

"Although I think a few people are less grody than you."

"A few. A trifle, really. Like, their numbers are so miniscule that they're statistically unimportant."

"Shame, really."

"It might be all they're destined for in life, achieving a less grody level than I." Takeru tried to keep a straight face, but Hikari's expression made him crack up.

"I'm sure they have bigger dreams than that," she insisted; she wasn't entirely kidding, but her tone was light and Takeru was determined to keep it that way.

"Like Daisuke's noodle cart?"

"Someone's dream was the world's largest rubber band ball," Hikari reminded him, smiling.

"I want to beat that," Takeru said with an enthusiastic dream. Hikari snorted.

"And crush their dream?"

"More like make it bounce down the hill. What a sight that would be," he said with a low whistle that made Hikari smother another fit of laughter in her palm.

"My stop is next," she said, glancing out the window and bringing about an end to what Takeru found to be a very comical (and career oriented, one might argue in the case of productivity) conversation. He was still chuckling to himself when the bus squealed to a stop, although he and Hikari both cringed and resisted the urge to cover their ears at the sound.

"Like a giant bat," Takeru muttered. Hikari gave him a strange look, which he only noticed when he had hopped off the bus step and into the rain. It was falling less heavily now, but it was still a shock of cold compared to the relative warmth of the bus, which had been heated by the mere presence of other bodies in close quarters. He stuffed his chapped hands into his jean pockets, even if it had no effect. He could imagine, couldn't he, pretend that it was actually helping and making him feel warmer? Hikari was still looking at him strangely. "What?"

"A bat?" She looked bemused. "You compared a bus to a bat?"

"I also compare our Science teacher to a bat," he pointed out, as though that explained everything. It apparently didn't, though, because Hikari still looked confused. "The squeaking. Bats send out clicks, you know, like dolphins? But I think it sounds more like squeaking, especially en masse."

Hikari shook her head but said nothing else, except there was a small smile tugging at her lips. Takeru considered that a personal feat; she was rarely struck speechless by one of his what he considered brilliant connections. It had to be that good. He told himself that because between Daisuke and having a big brother, his ego got shot down enough without his own help.

They didn't talk much on the way up to the apartment; Takeru was shivering, now that he was in a warm enough building to regain feeling in his toes. And Hikari kept glancing at him with sympathetic worry, as though she were expecting him to keel over with hypothermia or something any second now. He smiled at her, although he didn't think it worked very well. His teeth were chattering.

She shook her head and sighed, and he recognized the "my best friend is an idiot" look that he suspected was associated with the fact that he was soaking wet, shivering in the middle of a sparsely populated elevator because it was just before the rush hour commute home and people had yet to come streaming into the apartment building, and he hadn't thought to pick up an umbrella the entire time he was out.

"Stay here, alright?" It sounded like a request, but Takeru knew Hikari well enough to know that it was an order. So he stood just inside the doorway, shoes still on and trying pretty hard not to look as cold as he felt, because it would just lead to a ten minute lecture on why rain sucked and why maybe it wasn't such a good idea to go walking in the rain after all, and he was kind of proud that he had _finally_ gotten Hikari to just consider the possibility. It wouldn't be fair of the universe to strike out the opportunity right as it had arisen, so he clamped his jaw and buckled down.

He got a lecture anyway, to his regret, but he also got a towel that she had tossed in the dryer for a few minutes to heat it up, and a pair of sweats and a sweatshirt that she had pulled from the clean laundry pile. Yes, pile. Takeru had seen it; it was this mountain of clean clothes in the corner of Taichi and Hikari's room. All the clothes were Taichi's, and it drove Hikari absolutely insane. She had recruited Takeru to try stuff it all into the closet once, but it hadn't worked. There was a load of garbage in the closet too; it was the one time Takeru saw Hikari got really annoyed with Taichi, and she had asked if Takeru minded going to the park instead because she kept glancing at the room and sighing. She wasn't good at staying mad. It turned into this deep harboring sadness that wasn't fun for anyone to see.

"Thank you," he said gratefully, toweling his hair quickly. He had a feeling that was what had been bugging her the most, because once his hair wasn't dripping and he slid his shoes off, she let him walk through the main apartment. She didn't need to point him towards the bathroom so he could change into the sweats. He had visited often enough.

She didn't let him sit down until he _promised_ he hadn't kept his wet shirt on underneath, and when he went to lift his sweatshirt to prove it to her, Hikari rolled her eyes and covered them with her hands with a laugh. Her cheeks were faintly pink though; it made Takeru smirk when she told him to just give her the wet clothes so she could toss them in the dryer. She smacked him in the arm with the wet shirt before walking away though. He chuckled and sat down on the couch, sitting on his hands. They were still chilled, alright?

"I feel like I've barely seen you all week," he said conversationally when she came back into the living room – only to head into the kitchen, which wasn't that big a deal. All he did was rotate on the couch to be able to see her. She was fiddling with a kettle and filling it with tap water.

"That could very well be because you haven't," she said with a small smile he could only just see from his vantage point. She set the kettle on the stove top with a gentle clatter. "I wasn't in school for a couple days," she admitted.

"And here I thought you found some new hiding place you hadn't told me about yet. I was getting offended." There was a teasing air to his voice, but his eyes were a little tight.

"Haha. No, my grandma's been sick, and Daddy wanted us to go see her. She hasn't been very well this week." Hikari paused, and although Takeru felt bad for it, he couldn't help but breath out a small sigh of relief. He had been afraid that their run in the rain had gotten her sick; she didn't have the _best_ immune system, he knew. She had gotten sick a lot when she was little, which was why Taichi was particularly protective of his baby sister. Takeru was protective of her too, but for a different reason. The goals were the same though: he didn't want her to get hurt, sickness included.

"I hope she feels better," he said sincerely, and she smiled a sad smile. She hoped so too, but she didn't believe it. He really needed to reeducate her on the concept of "hope" and that it didn't work if you had contradicting thoughts on the matter. One of these days, her head was going to explode from doing that.

"Tea or Hot Chocolate," she asked, and he wasn't oblivious to the change of subject. He allowed it though, switching his hands from under his knees to the back of the couch in a stretch.

"Is that _really_ a question," he countered. She glanced at him and shook her head, looking as though she was suppressing a laugh.

"Hot chocolate it is," she replied, and he laughed outright. She smiled. He loved it when she smiled. It suited her so much better than that frown. She frowned much too frequently. He didn't like it. He wanted to make her smile, all the time if he could manage it. He didn't have a plan for that yet, but he was working on it. So far it involved duck balloons and those singing monogram things, whatever they were called. He didn't think she'd ever talk to him again if he did either of the two, but it'd be a memory that made her smile. Even if it was that "my best friend is an idiot" look again.

Oddly, he was okay with that look.

"You're not allowed to not call or anything when we don't get to hang out," Takeru informed her when she turned away from the kettle. She raised her eyebrows as she came to join him on the couch, tucking her socked feet beneath her. She had also grabbed one of Taichi's sweatshirts, a purple one from a university in America that had a reputation for a great soccer program. Hikari smiled when she saw him glance at it when he had first walked out of the bathroom, telling him that Taichi hadn't touched it since Mimi sent it to him after hearing he was researching the college.

"'Purple wasn't his color', he said when he saw it," Hikari had giggled, shaking the hood off her head. But she had flipped it back up a few minutes later. She was drier than Takeru, but she looked pale with cold. She didn't like this time of year, he very well knew. It was much too chilly for her tastes – and by "much too cold", she apparently meant anything under seventy degrees.

"Oh?" She reached to her other side for one of the rouge throw pillows that were stashed in the corners of the couch. Apparently they were Taichi's excuse for taking naps on the couch, despite his bed being not twenty feet away. If there were throw blankets, and there were throw pillows, they were either meant for pillow fights or sleeping. He alternated between the two, depending on if other people were around to keep him entertained.

"Yes, 'Oh'. It's just not fair leaving me alone to be peppered with questions from Daisuke and the rest of your fan club."

"I don't have a _fan club_," she objected with a disgruntled snort. She didn't comment on Daisuke though, he noticed.

"Right. There's --" he began, but she shook her head and covered her ears.

"We're not going into your _lists_, Takeru," she said sternly. "All you do is make lists." It sounded as close to a complaint as Hikari ever came, and it made Takeru chuckle.

"I resent that. I write columns in the school paper."

"And you favor making lists if things to _write_ in those columns. And some of those columns themselves have been lists," she countered, lowering her hands from her ears with a grin.

"Touche, Yagami. Touche."

"Why thank you, Takaishi."

"I don't like surnames. Let's go back to first names."

"You started it."

"Shush, you."

The banter was easy, something he never witnessed between her and other friends. It made Takeru feel special in a really obnoxious kindergarten kind of way. She was always going out of her way to be so polite to people – Takeru did too, but he knew how to have a laugh –, and even when she teased them it was with a subtle jab that they took to be a compliment instead of an insult. She was always afraid of offending people, whereas Takeru had grown up with the belief that if you smiled and acted sincere in what you did, then people would forgive you and not take to heart a joking remark at their expense, especially if you learned to laugh at yourself in return. She hadn't mastered either skill, though she tried... when she was with Takeru.

"So catch me up on what I missed in your busy, exciting life in the... week, at most, since I saw you last." She was entertaining his story-telling mood, and Takeru was only too happy to take advantage of it. She settled in, pillow tucked in her lap and arms hugging it close to her torso like a stuffed animal.

"Well, the other day Yamato picked me up from practice and we went to that restaurant diner place that Sora's been dragging him to lately."

"Fascinating." Her eyebrows were raised ever so slightly, but Takeru ignored the faint scent of sarcasm in the air. Really, people called her the sweet one? She was a snarky little thing when she was with him! Well, not all the time, but you know, she definitely had her moments. She had to pick up a _little_ snark from living with Taichi, after all. She wasn't totally green.

"It was. While the waitress was getting our order – she was new, I guess – we heard this screaming from the kitchen. The owners are married apparently, and they were fighting in the kitchen. Suddenly you heard this huge crash and more screaming and the guy sprinted out of the kitchen doors with the old lady following after him screaming 'I'm gonna get you, dammit!' with a skillet in her hand. You know, those like chrome sterling steel whatever the heck it's called ones?"

He was satisfied to see Hikari's eyes wide and disbelieving, all sense of sarcasm and disinterest gone.

"You made that up," she insisted, and Takeru placed a hand over his heart, feigning offense.

"I didn't. Go ahead, call my brother," he challenged. She didn't move towards the phone though. Her hands covered her mouth.

"That's horrible. They were_ married_," she asked, speaking through her fingers. Takeru nodded. She looked horrified, but he found it really funny. Maybe it was a "had to be there" moment, he decided.

"We saw him kiss her on the cheek when she rang us up, so it's not like she killed him in the back alley," he assured her jokingly. Hikari sighed, and he couldn't tell if it was "that sigh" again, or if it was from relief. He decided not to think about it.

Mostly because the kettle was making that "uwahhhhheeeeeee" whistling noise that meant – you guessed it – hot chocolate time!

Takeru loved, loved, loved the cold season purely because it meant an excuse for frequently drinking hot chocolate, even though his mother (and Hikari) insisted that he should drink more tea. But he drank that year round. This time of year was his hot cocoa binge, he maintained stubbornly.

"I know where the stuff is," he said quickly. She looked tired. He had a feeling that, you know, with her grandmother being sick and studying all day, she was a little tired. She looked it. Whenever they weren't talking, he thought he saw her eyes blink a few times too many. But maybe he was just imagining it because he had thought about her being sick before, and now he was a tiny bit paranoid that it might be true.

"Are you sure," she asked, as though doubtful that he could handle it. But Takeru jumped to his feet, waving his hand for her to sit back down.

"Absotively posolutely," he said with a grin. Ah, _there _was the Look. He laughed. "You love me."

He said it before he thought about what he was saying or who he was saying it to. Hikari fixed him with another Look, one that he couldn't really identify. He recognized it though, from another time when he had spoken without thinking. He had said he cared about her, that she couldn't give up that easily. He wouldn't let her. There was a strange silence.

"I'll be right back," he promised, excusing himself quickly. I mean, in any other apartment it would have worked. But the couch and a sort of half-wall that served as a counter were the only things that divided him from Hikari, and the apartment seemed aggravatingly small for the first time in his memory. But as promised, he dug through the cabinets until he found marshmallows that Taichi had stashed behind something organic and frankly, disturbingly unrecognizable to the point where Takeru doubted even their mother would brave experimentation with the unknown substance. And then he found the hot chocolate packs, and dumped them into two mugs with the hot water. But you don't need a play by play on how to make ready made, just-add-water hot chocolate, do you? God I hope not. How depressing! Takeru just might have to force you to go experience childhood and get you a mug all of your own.

Usually Hikari took tea. He had considered making it for her, but he was a firm believer that once in a while, a hot chocolate here or there was good for the soul. The _soul_. It was a very serious matter, the soul. Couldn't do anything that would hurt it, right? That was what he was going to argue if she said anything against his offering her a mug of hot chocolate identical to his own... except that hers had a few extra marshmallows dumped on top as a sort of sugary sweet peace offering. Bribery was such a dirty word. He preferred "incentive of sweets and fluffy goodness".

She quirked an eyebrow, but she accepted it and he took his seat again.

"The secret," he told her with a conspiratorial wink as though it _really_ was a secret, "is an extra packet."

"A one way ticket to the dentist," she murmured, but she took a sip anyway.

Takeru raised his mug as though in a toast and then mimicked her sip.

"You're hanging out for a while, right," she asked.

"I don't see why not. Weather still looks gross," he pointed out; they could hear the rain mixing with small pieces of hail as they landed on the balcony. She nodded slowly.

"Want to pop a movie in then?" She still favored VHS, although Takeru for the life of him didn't understand why. DVDs were a million times easier, but she said there was something nostalgic and comforting in the whir of the old video player and it felt more genuine to the movie watching experience. He called it a headache, but whatever she wanted. He wasn't going to complain – not seriously, anyways.

"Sure."

It was a standard rainy day routine for Hikari, and it felt kind of good to be a part of it. She set her mug down on the coffee table and fussed around looking for a movie. She didn't ask him what he wanted to watch; they always spent twenty minutes bickering about what made a good movie before they watched whatever she wanted to watch anyway. She skipped right to the winning part this time, and Takeru resisted the urge to comment on that.

'Cheater' came to mind, though. Playfully, of course.

When the movie was in and the darned ancient artifact was functioning at its best, Hikari returned to the sofa, curled up into her previous position, and cradled her mug in her hands. But about half an hour into the movie, she leaned against Takeru's side, sighing softly in her sleep. Doing his best not to budge her, he took her cup before it could dip more precariously, and stretched out his arm to place it on the table. He couldn't reach the blanket without moving her, but she wasn't shivering. She curled in against his side and he leaned back into the couch, watching whatever chick flick she had decided to make him sit through while she caught a cat nap.

And he smiled the whole way through.


	7. Sugar Cookies for You

**Author's note:** This segment idea started circulating around episode sixteen, when Hikari calls for Takeru and Daisuke and they pick up Iori and put him in the escape pod. Don't ask what the connection is, because there really isn't one. But the idea itself is an older one, something I've been trying to figure out how to write about since seeing an episode of Ranma 1/2 concerning Akane's cookies. I do love that anime, lol. I was happy when I finally figured out how to write my own cookie-exchange scene: through my favorite couple _ever. _But enough of that, eh? Just read it & review, please.

And I'm totally craving cookies _thinking_ about writing this, just by the way.

* * *

**Sugar Cookies for You**

* * *

Home economics was quite possibly _everyone's _least favorite class, as far as the girls were concerned anyways. The guys always benefited from it, because girls shared the fruits of their labor with boyfriends and crushes, and even brothers and cousins when lovers were scarce. But the girls endured the emotional trauma of pulling from the oven the ruins of what should have been a cake, or lumped up cookies that were black on the bottoms, or oil spills and too-high fires and dropping flour on your uniform and... well, let's just say that few girls in the room were actually rewarded with food that didn't deserve being thrown into the trash bin before others could see it by the end of the hour.

Hikari Yagami, it seemed, was one of the precious few.

"I hate you Hikari," Akisa pouted, reaching over to take one of Hikari's cookies. Hikari didn't stop her, but she frowned at her friend and classmate's declaration. She had no plans for these cookies; her brother didn't go to school with her, and Daisuke and company were more than likely to snatch them away before she even had the chance to consider someone else. She was more concerned about this 'hate' Akisa claimed she felt towards her.

"Why?"

"Mine came out horrible. Again." Akisa nibbled on Hikari's cookie, and with her free hand chucked one of her own towards the garbage bin. She missed, and it clattered to the floor. Seriously, they could hear it clatter. Hikari grimaced, but otherwise pretended not to notice. Hers had done the very same the week before, and Akisa hadn't been cruel enough to mention it. She would return the favor happily.

"Lemme try one." Hikaru, a boy from Hikari's photography club, came up behind Akisa and plucked one from her napkin. Her face was red as he bit off the corner, and then grinned at her. Hikari thought that was quite a feat; she loved Akisa, but she wasn't quite so brave as to try those cookies. This was the first week she even considered trying her _own_, and she didn't even like cookies that much. "They're good! Really. Open a booth at the next school carnival," he insisted, and Akisa rolled her eyes. But Hikari noticed she was smiling.

"You're a liar," Akisa said, but she let him hug her.

It was a scene that seemed to be playing out everywhere. Amusingly enough, home economics fell just before lunch hour, and students were milling out of the classroom to meet up with friends, boyfriends and girlfriends, or to chase down a potential crush.

"I'm supposed to be meeting my friends in the courtyard," Hikari said quietly, to excuse herself. It was feeling a bit awkward, and she didn't want to ruin Akisa's moments with Hikaru. They were a recent development, and a cute couple. They deserved some time alone, Hikari thought.

She felt bad about lying, though. She had no idea where her friends were -- that is, she didn't know where Daisuke, Takeru, or Iori were. It was nice being in the same school again, but they still didn't all see each other nearly as much as they used to. They had different work loads, and different commitments. It was just a part of growing up, a very sad, lonely part. But she didn't want to burden Akisa either, or make her feel like she had to spend her lunch hour with Hikari. So she made her way to the courtyard, where she said she was going, and sat on the concrete wall in the corner and sighed.

What on earth could she do for the entire hour?

She could eat her cookies, she supposed, but she wasn't very hungry. Her fingers went to her neck, and then down the cord of her digital camera. She could... take pictures for the school website, maybe? The photography club was helping the web design class revamp the site for a project, and it provided a fun exercise and an excuse to walk around if nothing else.

"Daisuke, pass the damn ball," she heard a boy's voice shout; she glanced by the small field to the side of the courtyard and grimaced. There was Daisuke; she should have expected him to be outside for lunch hour. She glanced down at the camera around her neck again before she stood up. Photography it was: it served the double purpose of hiding her from Daisuke, because in all honesty she _really_ didn't want him to be the one to eat her cookies. Not that she had anyone else in mind, but she didn't want to give him the wrong idea either. He was much, much too impressionable, she had decided a long time ago.

She hurried through the courtyard, slipping into the cafeteria through the outside door before Daisuke could spot her. She felt a little guilty, sneaking around, but once she was in the empty hallways she felt better. There was no chatter, no screaming and giggling. She didn't dislike her classmates, for the most part, but lunch could be a little overwhelming if you weren't in a group, at a distinguishable table. She usually was: she fell into the crowd that hung around the soccer players, for obvious connections to her brother and the fact that Daisuke had hailed her over before she could find another table the first day of school. She didn't like that, how what you did the first day seemed to set the pattern for the whole year. But she wasn't good at breaking out of the cycle, so she went to the photography club room or the yearbook room, somewhere that wasn't lunch where she was still expected to be. Her life seemed to revolve around expectations.

The yearbook room was nearly empty; the advisor was there, but he informed Hikari that he wouldn't be for long. He trusted her though, he said, so he'd let her sit as long as she didn't go on the computers. Not because he didn't trust her to be careful, but because she _did_ have cookies in her hand and the computers were new. She didn't mind. She had only gone to the yearbook room because a teacher who she knew was aware of the inside-outs of the yearbook club had asked her what she was up to, and they would know the yearbook staff didn't need to take any more candid pictures of the school.

The room had just been a place to go, something to do during the remainder of her hour. She was sad to find her walking around had only taken about ten or fifteen minutes; she still had a large part of the hour to figure out what to do with herself. There was always homework, she figured, and she sighed and sat at one of the long tables where they set pages and held staff meetings for the yearbook, and set her bag in her lap. She had forty minutes; she might as well get to work.

She wasn't five minutes into her algebra homework when someone cleared their throat behind her, and she jumped. Call it habitual reflex, but she tended to jump and go on the defensive when things sneaked up behind her.

Or should she say people, because she twisted around in her chair to find a familiar blond haired, blue eyed boy smiling at her. He looked remarkably like his brother, just then. Older, more mature than the boy who antagonized Daisuke about his crush on Hikari and snickered when Daisuke flipped his lid. He was leaning against one of the filing cabinets, arms folded over his chest. Hikari blinked, and then she frowned.

"Don't _do_ that," she said with a sigh, relaxing her muscles that had tensed up in surprise. His smile widened, and he dropped his arms. There, she thought. He looked more like Takeru again.

"What, were you afraid I was another deadline or something," he teased lamely, walking over and taking the seat next to her. He turned it around and straddled it, arms folded across the back.

"Ha." She said dryly, rolling her eyes. "No." She closed her math notebook; she had a feeling she wouldn't be getting much more work done, now that someone – Takeru – had shown up to talk to. She wasn't very good at multitasking.

"You're jumpy," he pointed out. He looked a little worried. "Nothing's..."

"Nothing like that," she promised. She knew what he was thinking; those shadows, those Digimon from the Dark Dimension. The last time she could remember being really jumpy, the last time Takeru could recall her being intentionally distant, she had been seeing things in the shadows. She had been pulled into their dimension, and it wasn't something she wanted to experience ever again, although she had.

"Like what, then," he asked, eyebrow raised curiously. She could see the relief in his posture though; he had gotten tense with suspicion. He was always looking out for her. She stifled a smile. "I didn't see you in the cafeteria again. I figured you'd come up here. But usually, you're actually doing yearbook stuff." There was no question, but it was implied. What the heck was she doing in the yearbook room, alone, during lunch?

"I'm hiding," she said simply. He frowned.

"Why?"

"We made cookies in Home Ec today." She could tell from Takeru's expression that he didn't understand. "I'm hiding from Daisuke," she clarified with a sigh. Takeru. So smart, and yet sometimes...

"Wh – Oh." And it clicked. He chuckled and rested his chin on his arms. "You guys have English together, don't you?"

"Last block," she mumbled sadly. He smiled sympathetically.

"You can't hide from him all day then," he said, pointing out her obvious dilemma. She didn't bother answering; there was really no point, and Takeru took no offense by her silence. "What're you gonna do?"

"Hope someone else gives him cookies with a love potion hidden in them so that he's too smitten with them to care about my cookies?" Her words were hopeful, but her shoulders were slumped in a sigh. "I don't know."

"You've been reading _way_ too much Harry Potter," Takeru said bluntly. She smiled a small smile.

"Taichi's on a fantasy kick, and you know how he gets with foreign films," she shrugged apologetically. Takeru chuckled.

"There's an easier solution than a mythical love potion and the slim chance that someone would _intentionally_ want to give it to Daisuke," Takeru pointed out.

"It could be an accidental slip of the love potion," Hikari argued jokingly. Takeru grinned, but didn't otherwise pretended she hadn't said anything. She didn't blame him; she probably would have done the same.

"I mean, either be contrary to tradition and eat the cookies yourself." He raised one finger; that was solution one. She smiled. She didn't like cookies, and he knew it. She only made them because it was the assignment, and she ate one or two to make sure they were _edible_ before someone else tried to eat them. She'd feel really, really bad if someone got sick off her untested cookies.

"And two," she asked, eyebrow quirked questioningly.

"And two," he said, raising a second finger, "is just _give _them to someone before you see Daisuke."

"Giving cookies has _implications_, Takeru," Hikari pointed out with a frown. Whether it was a silly tradition or not, it was a tradition. And word got around who got whose cookies. She hated to admit it, but she really did care about what other people said. And it was a messy situation when the entire class thought you had a crush on someone you didn't, particularly if you're just using them to dispose of your cookies. And wouldn't that be embarrassing to them as well? She thought so.

Takeru looked at her for a long moment, silent. His eyes were unreadable. He looked like Yamato again.

"You're getting old," she said with another small frown, and Takeru's eyebrows shot up inquiringly. "You look like Yamato. Not just like, your hair color. I never noticed it before," she said, cocking her head to one side. She wasn't sure if that made her feel sad or not. When she closed her eyes and pictured Takeru, she still pictured a large green hat and small arms clinging to a pudgy Patamon.

"Thank... you? You know, if I'm getting old, then you're getting old too." He stuck his tongue out at her. "You're two months older than me."

"...That's true," she conceded, nibbling on the inside of her cheek.

He chuckled and shook his head. "Anyways," he said.

"...Anyways?"

He raised his head from his arms to look at her. Like, really look at her. Takeru knew her better than anybody, could read her like a book. Maybe some people would think that she was being silly, fretting like she was over a baggy filled with sugar cookies. But Takeru knew what was going through her mind, her worry that Daisuke would think that letting him have her cookies meant she returned feelings that she so obviously didn't. Her worry that someone else might misinterpret the action in a similar way, incurring another Daisuke dilemma that she didn't think she could handle. And there was the fact that she could think of no one who she could offer cookies before her final class that _wouldn't_ take it that way.

Well, she thought suddenly, except...

"I'll eat them," Takeru shrugged. "If you'd let me," he added with a small smile she couldn't decipher. Too much like Yamato, she decided. She really needed to keep them away from each other for a few weeks, give them some days to redevelop their own habits. She wasn't that much like her own brother, was she?

Oh dear. She hoped not.

"I.. I'd let you," she said slowly, suddenly feeling very self conscious. This was silly. Why didn't she think of asking Takeru if he wanted them before? He'd eaten her cooking before, on days when he stayed over her house past his own dinner time and Taichi hadn't been home to beg for take out money. And he was her best friend, and cookies didn't create strings. Not when they were friends like she and Takeru were.

Was she _blushing_? He looked uneasy, like he was afraid that maybe she didn't think it was such a hot idea after all. Like she was saying she'd let him eat them to be nice, the way she would to any guy who asked her first. But he wasn't just _any_ guy. He was Takeru, sweet Takeru who was always there for her when she needed him to be, and other times just because he could be.

"I don't mind. If you want them, if that's okay," she said, and she felt vaguely as though she was rambling but couldn't seem to stop herself. Takeru grinned at her.

"You get way too stressed out, 'Kari," he told her. He stretched his hand out for the bag, finger tips only barely grazing the plastic. "Oi, don't tell me I can have food and then keep it just out of reach. That's cruel, Hikari," he pouted, and she giggled. He smiled a mischievous smile. Mission accomplished, it seemed to say. He always knew how to make her laugh.

"Here," she said, nudging the bag closer within his reach. His fingers wrapped around it.

"Can I eat them in front of Daisuke? Right before class? My classroom's right next door, I won't be late or anything," he pleaded, and Hikari groaned and smacked herself on the forehead. And she deemed Takeru the _mature_ one out of he and Daisuke?

How on earth had they managed to save the world?

"Be _nice_," Hikari warned, and Takeru smiled sweetly.

"Aren't I always."

"No, you're not," Hikari replied, sticking her tongue out at him. And then they laughed, and Hikari felt herself relax again. She could just be _her_, when Takeru was there. But she couldn't help but notice that his hand never left the cookie bag, even when the bell rang for them to head back to classes.

And they were _still_ in his hand when Hikari saw him just before the last class of the day. She frowned suspiciously; true to his implication, he hadn't eaten a single one from what she could see. Daisuke was standing with her, talking about something that had happened in gym class concerning a field hockey game and... Oh, really, she wasn't paying much attention anymore. Takeru was joining them, and as he caught her eye he winked and pulled a cookie out of the bag.

She could have hit her head against the row of lockers behind her right there, but she was too busy trying not to laugh as Daisuke's eyes landed on the baggy. He couldn't know whose they were, but she had a feeling that it wasn't going to remain a mystery for very long. And sure enough...

"Hikari, these are _really_ good!" Takeru exclaimed, biting into the first one. She bit down on her lip to keep from smiling, especially when Daisuke's head whipped around so quickly that he had to rub the crick. His eyes were narrowed suspiciously, widening slowly as what Takeru said sank in. He glanced from one to the other, brunette to blond to brunette again, eyes narrowing in annoyance as they finally settled on Takeru.

"Sh-She gave _you_ her cookies," he asked disbelievingly. Takeru smiled.

"Yeah. They're really good," he repeated, echoing his earlier sentiment. He held the baggy out to Daisuke. "Wanna try one?"

Daisuke didn't. He curled his hands into fists and stormed into the classroom, slamming the door so hard that Hikari jumped.

"_That_ ," Hikari said, trying very hard to sound disapproving and serious, "was _not_ nice." The effect was killed by her smile, which led to a giggle, which led to a laugh that she couldn't contain.

"Maybe. But it was_ really_ funny," Takeru snickered. He held up the baggy. "Cookie?"


	8. Swing Swing from the Tangles of my Heart

**Author's note: **I totally made a liar out of myself when I said that I would make an effort to include the other Chosen throughout these drabbles, so here's me correcting that negligence.

This chapter title is from _Swing, Swing _by _All-American Rejects_. Personally, I don't like the song much, but the chorus is really catchy. Obviously. The chapter itself is very largely based off one of many late-night excursions to the nearby playground with my friends. I'm not creative enough to come up with dialogue and goings ons entirely on my own, lol. Oh, fond memories. Sometimes it takes writing something down to remember. That wasn't my sole purpose for this, however. I've been practicing dialogue, trying to incorporate more of that and less unimportant detail. Critiques (helpful ones!) are always welcome.

And yes, I'm _totally_ jonesing for a cinnamon bun right now, like you have no idea. Why does my writing always make me hungry?

* * *

**Swing, Swing from the Tangles of My Heart**

* * *

"Aren't we a little old for playgrounds," Yamato complained. It was long after the hour that little kids would be running underfoot. There was a frosty November chill that had driven them all to collect their winter coats before venturing outside, at Miyako and Daisuke's suggestion. Taichi, Hikari, and Takeru had laughed and encouraged them with gusto. Sora and Yamato had exchanged looks and sighed in defeat. Koushiro, Jyou, Iori, and Ken were all busy. Perhaps if those four had been present, the vote would have turned in favor of Sora and Yamato, who had voiced their preference for going to get some dinner or staying in the Yagami apartment and ordering pizza and watching movies altogether.

Another day, perhaps. That was precisely what Hikari had said comfortingly as she slipped her arms through her off-white wool pea coat. The others donned similar attire, all bundling up to brave fun in the chilly weather.

"Probably," Miyako laughed, making a run for the stairs of the jungle gym. No one had brought their digital companions with them; they had to return to the Digital world, for Koushiro had long ago theorized that they couldn't spend very long in the real world without growing weak. And while they had spent many a day in the real world before, none were willing to put their partners at risk to test the range of their durability.

"Race ya," Daisuke shouted to Miyako, who laughed and lunged for the stairs. What they were racing towards, Hikari could only assume was the slide. They bullied each other in attempt to be the first to slide down.

"Loosen up, Yama-chan," Taichi grinned cheerfully, slinging an arm around one of his best friend's shoulders. The look Yamato gave Taichi out of the corner of his eye was as chilly as the November night, but Taichi was impervious to Yamato's icy temper after all these years. He just chuckled and thumped the blonde on the back. "Oh, we can have oh-so secret Chosen assemblies on the swings, but we can't actually come here to have fun?"

"That was just... a central meeting point," Yamato said stiffly.

"Come on, Niisan," Takeru said, joining him on his other side so that Yamato was sandwiched between he and Taichi. "Just for a little, have some fun eh?"

"What's that supposed to mean," Yamato challenged, grabbing his little brother in a headlock. Takeru shouted out and pawed at his brother's arm as he struggled to escape the noogie, but he was laughing joyously, betraying his own efforts.

"Be nice, Niisan. Leave Yamato alone," Hikari said reproachfully, a chocolatey brown-gloved hand placed on her hip. Taichi sighed and let his arm fall from Yamato's shoulders.

"Thank you, Hikari. See, _someone_'s on my side," Yamato said, releasing his hold on his brother's head and scowling at Taichi good-naturedly.

"Hey. I voted for staying where it was warm too," Sora argued, sounding offended. She rubbed her arms with her mittened hands.

"You guys are so pitiful," Taichi sighed mournfully. Yamato rolled his eyes and shot him a withering look.

"Your obnoxiousness _can't_ be genetic."

"You've never spent Superbowl Sunday with my dad," Taichi shot back with a grin. And then he stuck out his tongue at his baby sister, who mirrored the action without missing a beat. "You're spoiling my fun."

"And you're spoiling Yamato's," she replied with a sugary sweet smile. Takeru was rubbing his neck, although he didn't look very put out by his brother's rough treatment. Hikari smiled a small smile and shook her head. _Boys_, honestly!

"Sooooora-chan, tell Daisuke that you taught me how to get on top of the monkey bars! He doesn't think I can," Miyako whined from the play set. Sora looked bemused.

"Why not just _show_ him," Sora called back, stifling a giggle.

"Because my gloves keep slipping!" Although Daisuke and Miyako were too far away for Hikari to see in the darkness, she could just imagine the despairing look with which Miyako called out those words. Shaking her head, Sora went over to join them.

"I wonder if I can still use the monkey bars," Taichi mused outloud. He was known for his speed and agility on the soccer field, not his upper body strength. Hikari considered saying so, but bit her tongue. She didn't think that'd be very nice.

But polite friendliness seriously seemed to be lacking on the venue tonight.

"Taichi, you're not ten. You're tall enough to _walk_ with your hands on the monkey bars," Yamato pointed out.

"Daisuke and Miyako are obviously managing," Taichi retorted, looking put out.

"They're like, a head shorter than you, Taichi!" Yamato exclaimed, sounding exasperated. Hikari caught Takeru's eye, and he grinned, amused. She couldn't help but return the smile.

"Then I'll pull my legs up," Taichi resolved stubbornly, marching towards the monkey bars with determination.

"And I'll be there to see you fall on your ass," Yamato called after him. He looked at Hikari. "You wouldn't by chance let me borrow your camera, would you?"

"I am _not_ encouraging this hate parade," Hikari said stubbornly, folding her arms across her chest. Yamato chuckled and ruffled her hair as he walked past. She suddenly felt as though she were five, and it didn't help that she just said 'hate parade' either. It wasn't a fact that Takeru failed to pick up on.

"_Hate parade_ ," he asked incredulously, eyebrows raised. Hikari scowled.

"Don't mock me," she scolded. Takeru grinned.

They were alone now, as the others had wandered towards the monkey bars. Hikari felt no desire to join them, sure that they were all making fun of each other and having a grand old time of it. Instead, she headed for the swing set not too far from the entrance gate where she and Takeru were still standing. He followed her, taking the swing beside hers.

"You can go over there if you want to," Hikari pointed out. She didn't want to seclude him, make him feel obligated not to be the one to leave her alone. She was a big girl, she thought. She could handle a dark playground by herself. But Takeru shook his head.

"What? And join the 'hate parade'," he asked with a mischievous smile. Hikari glared.

"I said don't mock me," she said seriously, and stuck her tongue out at him so that he knew she was only kidding.

"Mocking? Oh no, 'Kari, I'm _agreeing_," he said with mock seriousness. The looked at each other and promptly lapsed into a fit of giggles.

"We're so mature," Hikari commented, speaking not only for them, but the rambunctious group by the monkey bars as well.

"Maturity is overrated," Takeru said resolutely, pushing at the ground with his feet to get the swing in motion. Hikari simply sat there, letting the swing sway naturally. She never liked going high; it frightened her a little, even if it was silly. She was too light for the swing to go _too_ high, but still... The feeling in her stomach when she tried to go more than a few feet high made her feel sick, which as Taichi pointed out, was pretty funny considering she thought nothing of flying on Nefertimon or in Angewoman's arms. But she trusted her Digimon to catch her if she fell. The swing? Yeah, the swing couldn't care less if she landed on her back or head because she couldn't win a fight against gravity.

"Like algebra," she questioned.

"And calculus," Takeru added seriously.

"Your sciences."

"Grammar."

"Spelling."

"Exercise."

"Food."

Takeru stared down at her (for his swing was in an upward swing when she brought food into the discussion). "If anything, my friend, food is severely underrated."

"I'm not sure about _severely_," she argued mildly.

"C'mon, it's emotionally essential as well as physically, and yet everyone tries to figure out the bare minimum they can squeak through their day to day lives eating," Takeru pointed out.

"Man," Hikari sighed. "I'd kill for a cinnamon bun."

"I was thinking a milkshake."

"With french fries," Hikari questioned hopefully.

"Duh."

Hikari giggled. Takeru smiled at her.

"When you're on swings, you know, most people actually _swing,_" Takeru pointed out, dragging his heels along the wood chips to slow the swing to a stop. Hikari shrugged.

"Never liked it much," she said with another shrug. Takeru frowned.

"You're so weird," he said with a sigh. Hikari blinked, looking vaguely affronted. "In a good way, obviously," Takeru said with a good natured eye roll. Hikari eyed him suspiciously, and he chuckled. "You're cranky at night. I'm bringing you to the playground while the sun is still in the sky."

"Will it be warmer, I wonder," Hikari mused outloud, and he laughed.

"You were on the side to come," he exclaimed.

"Doesn't mean it's not cold," she replied calmly. Takeru shook his head.

"You're impossible."

"Pot, meet Kettle."

"Ouch." He pretended to be wounded, placing a hand over his heart.

"Why in the blazes aren't you wearing gloves," she demanded disbelievingly. She had, honestly, been all in favor of going to the playground despite the chilly weather, but that didn't mean she wasn't feeling the effects of the cold. Her scarf was tucked around her neck under her coat that was buttoned up from top to bottom, and her gloves were pulled on tight, and her boots were pulled over her jeans to keep the chill from creeping in. But her teeth were still beginning to chatter quietly with cold, and she felt a shiver wrack her body whenever a particularly gusty burst of wind carried through the playground.

"I forgot them at home," he replied cheerfully, wrapping his hands tightly around the cold metal chain links of the swing.

"Oh, Takeru," Hikari sighed with a shake of her head. "Whatever will I do with you?"

"I imagine sewing my gloves to my sleeves might be on your mind," he mused, smiling with amusement.

"It did cross my mind," she lied, giggling. "Or baked potatoes in the pockets." He stared at her unblinkingly. "What," she asked defensively. He was looking at her like she had sprouted three heads during their conversation in much the same manner that Taichi looked at their mother whenever she suggested he try her hand at cooking.

"Baked potatoes," he asked disbelievingly. "Really?"

"They used to heat them and put them in their pockets before those pocket...hand warmer thingies were invented," Hikari explained lamely. Takeru snorted and shook his head.

"Sounds more like they were making dinner to go," he commented. She narrowed her eyes at him, and he held out his hands in front of him. "Hey, hey. If you say it, I believe ya," he said quickly.

"No you don't," she corrected. He chuckled.

"You're a really bad liar, so I kinda do," he retorted, sticking his tongue out at her. She opened her mouth to argue, blinked, and shut it again with a frown. Takeru grinned.

"So I wonder," he mused out loud. Hikari cocked her head curiously to one side.

"Wonder what?"

"If Miyako and Daisuke killed each other yet."

"Or Yamato and Niisan," Hikari added with a small, faintly worried frown in the direction that their friends had disappeared in. "They're in rare form."

"I like to call it 'A good mood'," Takeru amended with a smile.

"That was Yamato in a good mood," Hikari asked incredulously.

"I don't know. It's kinda hard to tell sometimes," Takeru admitted, and Hikari couldn't help but giggle except that when she did, a shiver made her shoulders convulse again. It didn't go unnoticed. "Do you want my coat?"

Hikari shook her head despite Takeru's worried frown. "You have no gloves. You're not getting away with no coat too," Hikari warned him.

"You worry too much, Hikari," he sighed.

"Pot," she repeated with a smile, "meet Kettle."

"Which one is whom, I wonder," Takeru pondered, tapping an index finger to his chin.

"You always sucked at whistling," Hikari pointed out.

"You cheated; you _bought_ a whistle," Takeru argued with a pout.

"I can still whistle better than you, even without my whistle," Hikari argued. They looked at each other and burst out laughing. After a minute or two, they lapsed into a comfortable silence, both letting the swings sway gently under their weight.

"So, do you wanna see if they've killed each other yet," Takeru questioned. Hikari wondered if he wasn't serious; for a few moments, she feared she couldn't hear Daisuke and Miyako, or Taichi's laughing whoops. But they carried back to them as the breeze tickled her nose again, and she breathed out loudly.

"Nah," she said with a small smile. She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye to find he was watching her. He was always, always watching over her. "I think I like it better over here."

"Yeah." Was it her imagination, or did he look a little pleased? He settled back into the swing, letting his legs pump it gently, although he never got too much higher than Hikari's nearly stagnant level. "Same here."


	9. Sleep is a Symptom

**Author's note:** I find it very stupid that people assume that because something is an American invention, it is not present in other cultures. Westernization is a global phenomenon, and it's not _just_ in technology. Oreos are in London. My very dear friend lives in Tokyo and lived much of his life in various other places in Japan, and has eaten a doughnut (which is also an American invention, like the California roll.) My point is that cultures are blending. There are still some very Japanese cultural traits and very American traits that I don't foresee ever blending (I can't see our boys too happy with White Day, for example), but it's ignorant to assume they _all_ stay isolated to their origins.

That rant wasn't really meant to be excessively rude, nor was it directed towards one person. Please don't take much offense, but don't offend my intelligence either.

This, by the way, is my dedication to coffee and doughnuts. I do not approve of dunking (get sprinkles and frosting my coffee, and I'll be less than pleased), but they do make a yummy combination.

I'm not entirely sure I'm pleased with how this came out, but I haven't had the free time to write (particularly in this domain) in a while, so I'm a bit rusty. And oh hey, I used dollars because I did not feel motivated enough to convert yen. Sorry, sorry. (Continues my "western" theme though, ironically enough.)

* * *

**Sleep is a Symptom of Caffeine Deprivation**

"_I believe humans get a lot done, not because we're smart, _

_but because we have thumbs so we can make coffee."_

– _Flash Rosenberg_

* * *

"You're insane."

"No I'm not," Hikari replied evenly, nonplussed by Takeru's grumbling. He wasn't often a grumbler, but he didn't particularly like being roused an hour earlier than usual either. Particularly on a school day, when an hour earlier meant four o'clock, all so that _someone_ could be an over achiever. And in case the glares weren't any indication, that "someone" was Yagami Hikari. Best friends were a very fluid concept before the sun had risen.

"You are," he insisted, pausing in his glaring daggers to sleepily rub at his eyes. "Why do you need my help again," he demanded. Hikari frowned at his attitude; once there was a little light outside, she was sure he'd be in a better mood, but they had more than an hour until that happy moment and she wasn't sure whose patience would give out first.

"One, because I'm not a writer and I was left in charge of captions for the photos," Hikari said calmly. "Two, because I have a twenty dollar card from Sora to the coffee shop and will never be able to drink twenty dollars of coffee." She wrinkled her nose; she drank coffee sparingly, only with Takeru, and only frozen with two shots of chocolate, a whole lot of confectionery sugar, and whipped cream with chocolate shavings.

He blinked. "We're grabbing coffee?"

_Junkie_, Hikari thought with a sigh. Out loud, she pointed out with a small smile, "I would have let you sleep at least an extra half hour if we weren't making a stop first."

Takeru looked considerably cheered by this, and Hikari suppressed a giggle.

"C'mon, this way."

She reached for his hand, but at the last second grabbed his wrist instead and pulled him around the corner. A small café, so small in fact that unless she was actively looking for it Hikari often accidentally walked past, was tucked into the stone masonry of the old building that lined a long strip of the main road.

"Can you order? I'm gonna step in back for a minute," Hikari told him. 'In back' was where the bathroom was; unlike her brother, Hikari thought it was a tad crude to announce that sort of destination out loud. Anyways, even a tired Takeru knew her well enough to know what she meant, and he waved his hand carelessly to shoo her off as he made a beeline towards the counter as though he could smell the caffeine leading his way. Then again, he was such an avid coffee drinker like his brother that Hikari wouldn't have questioned him if he insisted he could.

When she came out, Takeru was leaning against the wall by the doorway, face buried behind his Styrofoam mug. His other hand held a frozen latte, complete with chocolate shots and shavings atop whipped cream. Hikari smiled. She knew she'd forgotten something – like, you know, her order?

"Thanks," she said gratefully as he held it out for her. He looked considerably more chipper now that he had caffeine, like it was an artificial sunlight that brought the gleam back in his eye. Hikari smiled.

"What," he asked, blinking. She giggled.

"Got milk," she joked lamely, pulling the napkin from around her plastic cup and dabbing his lip, where whipped cream from his own coffee had gathered. His cheeks flushed a dull pink.

"I thought it was cream," he replied, plucking the napkin from her hand and licking the whipped cream. "Thanks."

"It was more of a self preservation tactic."

"That embarrassing?"

"Something like that," Hikari teased, smiling a small smile as Takeru laughed and brought his coffee to his lips for another sip. He ran his tongue along his lips as he lowered the cup.

"Yet you go out in public with Taichi," Takeru countered, shaking his head.

"He's well behaved in public," Hikari pointed out. "Sort of," she added with a giggle, for Takeru raised a doubtful eyebrow.

"I kid. Taichi's not as bad as Daisuke," Takeru allowed. Hikari giggled, but she felt a little bad. Daisuke _was_ another one of her closest friends, even if this… crush business had made things a little awkward over the years.

"Daisuke isn't always so bad either," Hikari said slowly. "He's only really bad when – "

"I'm around," Takeru questioned, finishing her sentence for her. When Hikari didn't answer, he just shook his head. "Goggles are choking off the air supply to his brain."

Hikari smiled and took a sip of her frozen drink, saying nothing. After all, she didn't think she had very much to worry about. For all that Daisuke and Takeru complained about the other, she knew that the reality was that they were very good friends. At least, until she came into the conversation. Miyako had more than once thought to share her theories with Hikari, who listened without listening. Like Koushiro with his alien life forms, Miyako could be a bit of a… well, a bit of a conspiracy theorist, Hikari thought.

After all, it was ridiculous to think that Takeru bickered with Daisuke because he _liked_ her. I mean, Hikari knew that he liked her well enough. They were best friends. But _like_ like? No, that was Daisuke's domain. Not a very comfortable domain for him to dwell in, but Takeru only fought with Daisuke because he was annoyed by Daisuke's obscene remarks about Takeru _like_ liking Hikari and implying that the two couldn't be just best friends.

Right?

"Earth to Hikari-chan," Takeru was saying, waving a hand in front of Hikari's face. She jumped, cheeks growing hot with embarrassment for having spaced out. He didn't look annoyed, though. Rather, Takeru laughed and took another long sip of his coffee. "Where were you?"

"Asleep, apparently," she mumbled around her straw. He might not have gotten annoyed for her lack of attention, but she was still embarrassed by it. She was usually so attentive when another person was present. Especially Takeru. He was her best friend, after all.

"You need caffeine," he insisted, pushing her cup towards her when she dared try lower it from her lips. She smiled. "So, are you gonna answer?"

"Answer what," Hikari asked stupidly, blinking large eyes innocently. If Takeru hadn't known better, he might have thought she was playing with him. But Takeru _did_ know her better. He knew her better than anyone. But he still rolled his eyes in exasperation. "You're impatient in the morning," she mused, and his expression softened, although he still looked a bit annoyed at not having been heard.

"I _asked_," he said with a sigh, and she could tell that this might not have been the first time he asked this question while she was thinking about, well, what Miyako had said on more than one occasion, "if we were grabbing a table or taking these –" he lifted his cup for demonstration purposes "—to go."

"We can sit," Hikari allowed. "We've still got time."

"Still got—" Takeru frowned, pushing off of the wall as he stared at first the clock over the register, and then at a rather sheepish- looking Hikari. "What time does the school open, anyway?"

"Five… five thirty," Hikari replied slowly, blinking under Takeru's stare. When did he get so much taller than her, she wondered. She remembered a time when she was taller than him, and he had pouted that a girl his own age was taller. Not that this was the first time she had noticed the change, but… well, it was a little intimidating when he hadn't finished his coffee _nor_ been exposed to sunlight yet.

"You…" Takeru sighed and smiled slowly, as though he were trying very hard to look angry but was failing. "You really are insane."

"I didn't think you'd _actually_ be up when I told you to be," she replied, pouting as she followed him to a table. The corners of his mouth twitched again.

"You thought I was lying when I said I set my alarm," he questioned challengingly. He pulled a chair out for her, looking expectant until she surrendered to his raised eyebrows and sat with a sigh.

"No. I thought you'd sleep through it," Hikari corrected, giggling at the expression on Takeru's face as he sat opposite her.

"You have no faith," he sniffed, offended as he took another sip of his coffee. He was nearly down to the bottom of the cup; she could see it when he set it down on the table between them.

Hikari opened her mouth, and quickly closed it again. She didn't know what was wrong with her. Everything that she thought of to say sounded, well… so… manga-esque. It sounded like it belonged in some cheesy shoujo, not in her daily life with her best friend.

Takeru tilted his head curiously to one side, his hand resting on the black faux-marble table top just inches from Hikari's hand, curled into a loose fist. She was self conscious about the size of her hands ever since Taichi had teased her for getting her hand stuck in a pickle jar a couple years previous.

_And that's why I have you_.

_But I have hope_.

Bah. Where was all this stuff coming from?

"I was only teasing," he said, sounding apologetic. He had taken her silence for guilt or offense, and Hikari didn't bother to correct him. Besides, her stomach decided to speak for her. Rather loudly, at that. Hikari blushed, but Takeru only laughed. "I saw doughnuts in the display. Fresh, this early. I'll be right back." He winked and sprang out of his chair. Caffeine had done him a world of wonders. Now Hikari was the one feeling sleepy, and she _was_ a morning person!

He brought her back a vanilla cream doughnut and a handful of napkins, for the dry powdery sugar was already making a messy trail on the floor as Takeru walked. Hikari was torn between frowning and laughing; she felt bad for whoever's job it was to sweep, with the sale of sweets such as her doughnut.

"So on a scale of one to ten, how hard am I gonna have to work before I even get to math first block," Takeru asked conversationally, sinking his teeth into a sprinkle coated treat. He had been thrilled when Hikari told him about this quaint little shop for the first time. As his mother was French, he was no stranger to Western sweets and baked goods that weren't as prevalent in Japan. When Hikari had told him about the doughnuts, he had insisted that she show him where it was. She wondered if he realized this was the cafe she had been telling him about all along.

"Not very hard," she promised. "I'll do all the page set up and everything; I just need your brain for photo captions." She was sure she'd already explained that, but... well, he had only just gotten his caffeine. She wasn't expecting much that she had said on the fairly quiet bus ride to this part of town to have sunk in. She suspected she had even heard gentle snoring at one point en route.

"And you're coming to the basketball game tonight, right," he asked. She thought it sounded more like a threat. "You owe me –"

"For dragging you out at four in the morning, I know," Hikari cut in with a smile.

"And for talking me into trying out in the first place," he reminded her, putting his doughnut down on one of the unfolded napkins he was using as a sort of make shift disposable plate. "Remember?"

"Yamato told you to, too. And so did Taichi," she pointed out.

"Yeah, well."

"Well what," she demanded, although the effect was ruined with a giggle. He looked so much like the little boy who had worn a too-large green hat and pouted when Yamato didn't let him have his way in an argument. For the briefest of moments, he looked as he had when she first met him. _Like her Takeru_, she thought, but then she blinked, because he was never really 'her' Takeru at all. The thought had come out of nowhere.

Instead of a reply, Takeru picked up a sprinkle that had fallen on the napkin and threw it at her. Laughing, Hikari pushed her chair away from it, playfully exaggerating her reaction for the sake of the game. She threw a pinch of sugar at him, and Takeru coughed with laughter, for the sugar didn't even make it to the edge of his napkin before floating harmlessly to the table top. They fell into a fit of giggles. Sleepiness and caffeine, after all, can have that effect on you.

"You've gotta be kidding me," Hikari heard someone mumble, and she stopped laughing to look over at a man hidden by a newspaper and a large cup of steaming black coffee. He had lowered the flap of the news paper and was looking over at the two of them with aggravated eyes, although Hikari wasn't very sure he was talking _to_ them, but rather very loudly to himself. "Isn't it a bit early for a date?"

Hikari felt her cheeks grow hot and turn pink for what had to be the tenth time that morning, and she silently picked up her iced drink to sip from it to have something to do. She hoped maybe Takeru hadn't heard, but he had followed her gaze when she stopped laughing, and the expression on his face was blank, unreadable.

Then he laughed and chuckled.

"Daisuke'd be mad to hear that, ne," he asked her, looking amused as he drained the last of his coffee.

Obviously supposed to be amused as well, Hikari giggled after a brief moment's of hesitation. After all, it _was_ pretty funny, thinking of her and Takeru out on a _date_.

Right?


	10. Oh, To Be That Snowflake

**Author's Note:** It snowed way too much this year where I live; last year we only had two really big storms, but all the storms this year have closed roads and such. I don't really mind. Time's been going by too quickly, these days, and the snow days gave me a few extra days to kind of... embrace time. Anyways, I remember that when the first snow fell, I was kind of sad that I was by myself. It's the kind of thing that's only fun if you have someone to share it with. It's still pretty, but... you know, it's different.

I'm not sure I like this ending. Feels like it's missing something. But I'll make it up next update (whenever that may be).

Some of these probably deserve to stand alone as one-shots. I'm sure I've said that before, but it's more of a "as much as I love Takari, I refuse to have 100 closely related stories published when I can have them all in one". So, sorry for those who have messaged and will probably continue to message me pointing out that these aren't really drabbles. I know that. I also don't entirely care.

* * *

**Oh, To Be That Snowflake...**

* * *

  
The sky was smeared with shades of gray that hung low over Odaiba district, drawing wondering eyes towards the clouds throughout the day. Takeru, for one, sincerely hoped that it wouldn't rain. The breeze was chilly, and he had to walk again. He'd promised Hikari a day, just the two of them. As the end of the marking period approached, their workload had nearly tripled. They hadn't had any time to do anything but study, and after a while even dutiful Hikari was having a hard time concentrating.

"I need a break," she had said, only the day before. She had pushed her books away from her and run her fingers through her hair, which was longer than he had ever seen her wear it – Mimi's persuasion, probably. It was the first time he had realized how it brushed against her collar bone because he had to stop himself from reaching out and touching it.

"Same. But this is the last of the papers," Takeru had said in a falsely cheerful voice. Hikari smiled a small smile in reply.

"We've still got to study for English," she reminded him, patting the still-unopened grammar book. "The test is Friday, remember?"

How could he forget? "You hardly need to study," he scoffed. She raised her eyebrows. "But I do," he mumbled, sighing loudly. She patted his arm sympathetically.

"I still don't get why you're so good at French, but English…" She shook her head, baffled.

"I've told you," Takeru said defensively, "the grammar structure is different. And I grew up knowing French. English… I make stupid mistakes."

"Well, I'll study with you. Thursday, we'll only speak in English," she promised. "We can even webcam with Mimi. It'll be fun." She spoke in that soothing voice most people would reserve for a temperamental child. Immediately, he felt a little embarrassed for his irritation.

"Alright," he said, conceding. He slumped down in his chair and yawned. It was nearing 9:30, and he still had to get home, shower, and find something to eat before bed. They had ordered pizza, but his stomach was still gurgling hungrily.

"After a break," Hikari said firmly. She closed her books for the night. "Tomorrow, let's go to the park."

Takeru raised his eyebrows. "The old people place?"

She scowled. "Just because there isn't a playground, doesn't mean it's for old people."

"It kind of does," Takeru teased.

"Shut it." She took a sip from her mug of peppermint tea – her sixth mug, which proved she was even more stressed than she was admitting. "We used to hang out under the bridge, remember?"

"True." He took the mug from her hand, and she blinked. It was empty. "That was a while ago though. Want another," he asked, raising the mug a little. Although she looked a bit embarrassed, she nodded, and Takeru got to his feet with a groan of exaggerated effort.

"It was," she agreed wistfully, leaning her elbow on the table and cupping her cheek with her hand. "In Junior High, wasn't it?"

"With Miyako, Daisuke, and Iori." Takeru went into the kitchen, rinsed the mug out of habit, and reached for the kettle. There was just enough water left for a single cup.

"Before Miyako got a second job right after school."

"And Daisuke joined the high school soccer team."

"And he got a job too, remember? Coaching the elementary kids."

"And Iori got a girlfriend."

"Whatever happened with them, anyway," Hikari asked, lowering her hand. "He never did tell us."

"I didn't ask. You know how much he hates prying," Takeru shrugged.

"Yeah." She sighed, and her voice trailed off into silence that, for a few minutes, was interrupted only by the soft clink of the spoon against the side of the mug as Takeru stirred in two sugars and wrung the tea bag.

He had handed her the mug as he took his seat again, although neither made a renewed effort to crack open their books. Hikari tried to hide a yawn behind her mug, but was unsuccessful. There wasn't much about her that Takeru didn't notice.

"After school tomorrow, under the bridge," Takeru reminded her. She blinked, then smiled brightly.

"Alright. We can walk together," she suggested, but he shook his head.

"I have a doctor's appointment, so I'm cutting out of last block early. But I won't be too long, so I'll meet you there," he promised. Although she had looked a little disappointed, she had nodded. That would be the plan.

And that was why, sitting in the doctor's office while his mother discussed payment and insurance cards with the office secretary, Takeru was staring out the window with a faint frown tugging at the corners of his lips.

"Are you feeling alright?"

At first, Takeru didn't think the words were meant for him. Only when he looked around, not having heard a reply, and realized that the only other person in the room was a young mother in her twenty-somethings bouncing a tearful, red-faced little boy on her lap, did he realize that the question was meant for him. He blinked. The woman was watching Takeru, eyes dark with concern.

"What?" He asked stupidly. "Um, yeah. Fine. I was only here for a physical – fit as a fiddle, the doctor said." She smiled faintly, although he wasn't sure if it was out of relief or disbelief. Hikari got the same look in her eyes sometimes.

"I wonder if it'll snow," she mused, following where Takeru's gaze had been directed. "It's a bit early in the season, but the clouds look too pale for rain. Too low for nothing at all."

"I hope not," he admitted, glancing out the window again. "I have to meet someone once I leave here."

"A girlfriend," she guessed curiously. Takeru could feel his cheeks burn.

"A friend. My best friend," he corrected, stammering over the words in his haste to get them out, to clear up the misconception, to drown out the voice in his head that said "I wish" in a voice that sounded disturbingly similar to his own and at the same time strangely unfamiliar.

"I see." She smiled another smile alarmingly reminiscent of Hikari's 'if you say so' look. "Well, then. Hopefully the snow will pass us by and you'll have clear skies."

"Hopefully," he agreed. His cheeks still felt hot when his mother reemerged a few minutes later; although their blush must have died away, for she didn't seem to think he looked feverish like the poor boy that was just called into the office.

"Do you want to go for something to eat," she asked, adjusting her purse on her shoulder. "I was thinking…"

"I told you, Mom, I'm meeting a friend. Didn't I," he added, for he felt a little bad. She blinked, seemingly taken aback.

"Oh. Right. I forgot about that," she admitted, frowning a little. His mother wasn't the sort to 'forget' anything, which meant he had forgotten… which made him feel kind of worse.

"Dinner," he suggested.

"Alright." She looked marginally more cheerful with this arrangement. She hadn't looked very happy since he got his first university introduction letter, telling him everything about the campus and nothing about the education. Although he still had a couple years to go before Uni, she had said she felt old thinking of her youngest baby getting ready for 'the real world'. Dinner, simple meals together, were important to her.  
"Awesome." He smiled and got to his feet, picking up his jacket as he did so. "I'll see you later then. Six, right?"

"Are you walking?"

"It's not that far." That was a yes. "I told a friend I'd meet them after school let out. I should make it there just in time to meet them." Hikari. Her. He had no idea why he wasn't telling his mother who, exactly, her son was meeting up with. Who knew what sort of possibilities were running through her mind? But for some reason, he wanted this afternoon to be literally about him and his best friend, no outside forces – including invitations from his mother for Hikari to join them for dinner, or to come to the apartment, anything else that would make this day less than about the two of them catching up without quizzing each other on facts and equations and names of people long dead.

"Alright. Six, Takeru. And for goodness sake, call if you're going to be late," she reminded him, her voice rising in an effort to be heard across the growing distance between them. In reply, all Takeru did was raise a hand overhead and step into the stairwell, vanishing behind the brown-painted metal door as it clanged closed behind him.

He took the stairs three at a time until he nearly lost his balance and toppled forward; even then, he took them at two. It wasn't that he feared he'd be late, for he still had a little bit of time. Final block would only just be getting out, and Hikari still had to make the walk herself. But he felt like moving, and it took all his effort to not enter a jog or a sprint, reminding himself that it was "only Hikari" – although even in his head the words sounded like a lie – and he'd be nothing but bored if he got there too early. But the blast of cold air that smacked him in the face and sent a shiver along his spine did nothing to help his resolve to take his time. If anything, it made him want to run farther, faster, just for the sake of keeping warm.

With a wary glance at the low-hanging clouds, Takeru stuffed his hands into his coat pockets and set off, taking back roads and letting himself look in shop windows as he passed to absorb the time until his meeting with Hikari. And still he was early, for he didn't see her anywhere around when he reached the park – little more than a long stretch of grass planted in the middle of the bustling city, surrounded by walls of manicured green bushes that guarded the park-goers from the reality of Tokyo in rush hour. A river flowed through the center of the park, although Takeru didn't know if it was natural or manufactured. A bridge, however, had been built over it. It was a bridge of memories, although the graffiti marks of Daisuke's "bad boy" phase and other local kids had been scrubbed away several times.

With a sigh that he wasn't even aware of, he shook his hair out of his eyes and made his way down the bank, leaning back slightly to keep his balance. He didn't fancy a dip in the river at this time of year, although sickness might deter Hikari from suggesting meeting at this place at the start of winter again.

He'd barely leaned his back against the masonry when he heard Hikari's voice, warm and familiar, call out his name. He tilted his head back until he could see her, giggling and waving down to him from on top of the bridge. She leaned over the edge, and he had the bizarre idea that she was going to try and jump. But she only shouted, "I'll be right there," before taking out her camera. She had stopped wearing it around her neck, fearful of stories in the papers about a string of muggers and robberies, but she still carried it in her satchel. He saw the flash go off, although he couldn't imagine what she had taken a picture of on such a gray, dreary day.

"How was class," he asked, grinning as he reached for Hikari's hand to steady her on her descent. She took it gratefully, although she stuck her tongue out at his teasing question.

"Rather boring. Have fun making up the quiz during your lunch hour tomorrow," she replied sweetly, barely missing a beat.

Takeru cringed. "Don't we have a test Friday though," he asked, feeling rather indignant.

She shrugged, depositing her bag against the bridge. "Sensei wanted to make sure we were studying. If you don't feel you did well on the quiz tomorrow, we'll study extra hard."

"Harder than spending the entire day speaking English," he asked. She only smiled.

"Look," she insisted, cleverly changing the subject before he could get in a sour mood. She shoved her camera into his hand, the screen already frozen on the picture she had taken earlier. "Isn't it pretty?"

"Erm," was all he could say, and she frowned.

"Look at the water. Like winter wonderland waiting for the snow," she said with a wistful sigh, leaning against his arm to look at the picture as well, despite the fact that the scene was right in front of them, live.

"Exactly. It's gray," Takeru said, handing her back her camera. She sighed and shook her head regretfully.

"You're getting old, Takeru," she teased, although he caught the undertone in her words that said she wasn't entirely kidding. "You're getting all serious on me."

"Am not. I'm just a spring and summer kinda guy," he said defensively. She patted his arm with a pale pink-gloved hand.

"I think all the seasons are pretty. The cold is cleansing, crisp and clear. There's no smog or anything like the summer time. Clean," she said again, looking at the water. She saw the snow flakes in the reflection first, and looked up to catch one of the first to fell on her nose. She laughed, reaching out her hand to catch another while Takeru watched, arms crossed and head cocked to one side in amusement.

"Come here," she said, laughing. Takeru shook his head, and she pouted good-naturedly before pulling out her camera and taking more pictures – of the snow, of the underside of the bridge, of the ripples in the water, of Takeru standing there, watching it all with a crooked smile on his face.

Maybe he was getting old, he thought as he watched her raise the camera to freeze in time the slowly falling snow flakes. He didn't feel that carefree, childish cheer that came with snowflakes when he was a little kid. But Hikari, on the other hand, looked so like the carefree little girl that she had been when Takeru met her, that he didn't want to join her. To join her would mean to surrender watching, to be unable to capture her in time like her camera did the snow flakes and the flow of the river's water. It was only a flurry; they weren't very thick or very fast, and it was sure to be over within a few minutes. But for those few minutes, Takeru was more than content to count the snow flakes that were lucky enough to hand on her hands, in her hair, on her eyelashes and lips, however unwilling he might have been to admit that was what he was doing.


End file.
